Paradise Lost
by Nargle Hunter
Summary: During the attempt to rescue the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry makes a choice that will forever change the course of not only his life, but the fate of the World.
1. Choices

_Paradise Lost by Nargle Hunter_

_Disclaimer: All characters used from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made off this story._

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…**_

"Don't be a fool," Voldemort snarled from the back of Quirell's head, pacing in front of the Mirror of Erised. "Better to save your own life and join me… or you'll meet the same end as your parents…. They died begging me for mercy…."

Harry opened his mouth to tell this evil person before him that he was a liar and that his parents would never beg for their lives from him. But something Voldemort had said tugged at a part of him. _Join me._ The very man who had murdered his parents was offering Harry the opportunity to become one of his followers. Joining Voldemort would be a great betrayal to his friends and his parents, who had died to protect him from this very evil. He couldn't do that, could he?

But then again, the Sorting Hat would rather have placed him in Slytherin, not Gryffindor. Based on a few words from Ron, he had protested against being placed in Slytherin. What had the hat seen in his mind that would warrant such placement?

"Why… why would I join you?" he asked, his voice quiet, thoughtful. This wasn't right… he shouldn't be considering this offer. Instead, he should say no and defend his parent's honor. But something about Voldemort intrigued him. He was a strong, determined person, who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. This trait reminded Harry of himself. It was like when he played Quidditch; he'd search and search for the Snitch and once he spotted it, he wouldn't stop until he had it in his hands. He usually applied the same technique in his everyday life.

Using Quirell's body, Voldemort stepped closer to the bound Harry, causing an even greater pain in the Gryffindor's head. "I sense a great potential lying within you Harry Potter; potential that even the great Albus Dumbledore would refuse to acknowledge. There are things that I can teach you that you would have never in your life thought to be possible. Join me Harry Potter and I will give you anything you could ever desire."

Harry's green eyes stared into Voldemort's red, considering the offer. It was tempting. _Very tempting._ Imagine the look of his friend's faces when they realize what kind of person Harry would become. He could make a name for himself, a name outside the Boy-Who-Lived. He didn't want to be remembered for something that he had almost no memory of. It wasn't like he had said, 'Oh, I'm going to kill myself a Dark Lord today.' He would do the very thing that no one would have expected him to do. Join the Dark Lord.

"Okay." He said, pulling himself from his thoughts. "I'll do it. I'll help." He stated this with a finality. He had to convince himself that what he was doing wasn't entirely immoral.

Voldemort smiled, a look that didn't suit him well. "You have made the right choice. Now, if you'll hand over the Stone…."

_**Number 4, Privet Drive…**_

Harry threw himself onto his bed, glad to be out from the watchful eye of the Dursleys. The ride back from Platform 9 ¾ had been the most tense ever. He wasn't sure, but he had thought he had detected a hint of fear from his Uncle. It was as if Harry was going to start showing his 'freakiness' and begin hexing everybody in the car. Though, if he had been able to practice magic outside of school, he would have hexed them as soon as one of them so much as glared at them. When they pulled into Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon had told Harry to stay in his room for a couple of days while they figured out what to do with him. He had merely shrugged before taking his trunk upstairs by himself. He didn't care, the less he saw of his 'loving' family, the happier Harry was. Besides, he needed time to think about his last week or so at Hogwarts.

He was glad to be away from the scrutinizing gaze of his Headmaster. There were times he could swear the old man knew when he was lying or trying to avoid a question; it was a feeling he had gotten several times over the school year. When Dumbledore questioned him about what happened between him and Quirell, Harry barely stayed one step ahead of him.

The only excuse he could come up with was that he couldn't remember much about his interaction, that everything had happened so fast. The question of the Sorcerer's Stone, he had a bit a trouble lying about, so he had decided to go with a half truth. The Gryffindor had told his Headmaster that Voldemort had somehow gotten hold of the stone. His answer had seemed to satisfy the Headmaster, but Harry wasn't sure how much.

During the whole conversation, Harry had feared that he would slip up and mention the deal that he had made with his supposed enemy. He didn't want to mess everything up so early and get sent to jail for it. He was glad the questioning was over for the time being as he didn't think he could come up with more lies to tell. A bit of feigned fatigue had gotten rid of the Headmaster a bit early. Madame Pomfrey showing up and shooing him away also helped. He already felt slightly guilty for lying to everybody about what really happened, but it was all for the best.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft tapping at his window. A barn owl sat outside on his windowsill with a letter and a small package attached to its leg.

Harry jumped off his bed and opened the window, letting the owl in. As soon as he untied the package, the owl immediately flew back out the window. So much for giving it some Owl Treats. Not recognizing the owl or the handwriting on the letter, he cautiously unrolled the letter and started reading the elegant, flowing script.

_Potter,_

_The conversation we had two weeks ago was very enlightening. I trust you are still willing to join my side. We would make fearsome allies. You have already showed your loyalty to me by handing over the Sorcerer's Stone. It was a good choice, but unfortunately, the Stone was a fake. I was lucky to notice this before making an attempt to use it myself. Quirell died in the process of finding this out, but his death was not at a loss to me._

_After much consideration, I have found the best way for you to learn a certain portion of my knowledge. Enclosed, you will find a necklace that will impart almost six years of memories unto you. I will not lie to you; the process will be painful for you. Your mind will have to adjust to having the knowledge of a sixteen year old placed into an eleven year old mind. _

_There are some memories that will be withheld from you. I may or may not reveal these to you later on. Only time will tell. If you do not think you will be able to use the method I have provided, I will attempt to find another one for you to use._

_Do not get caught. I suggest you find a way to destroy this letter before it is accidentally discovered._

_ L.V._

Harry finished the letter, his mind going over the contents. He was apprehensive at the thought at having Voldemort's memories inside his head. Not only that, the part about the pain was a bit daunting. He weighed out the pros and cons. The obvious one would be that he would have knowledge that an almost twelve year old would probably never dream of having. The downside of it was that there was a chance that he could be incapacitated for a few hours. There was no telling what Dudley or Vernon would do if either one of them found Harry powerless and unable to defend himself. He was sure they would try to take advantage of him and beat him to a pulp. But then again, he could always threaten them with the use of magic. As clueless as they were about the Underage Use of Magic laws, they wouldn't try to do anything to him.

With that thought in mind, Harry turned his attention to the small parcel that lay on his bed. He slowly opened it, hands shaking at the prospect of what he was about to do. He could always just not do this; he wasn't being forced to inherit the Dark Lord's memories. But he had already gone past the point of no return when he agreed to join Voldemort and had given him the Stone. In Harry's mind, there was no turning back now.

He pulled out a silver chain with a large, gleaming emerald dangling off it. The stone looked oddly bright in the dim light of his room. He suspected it was where the memories were being contained, memories he was now to inherit. Taking a deep breath, Harry slipped the necklace over his head, letting the weight of the stone fall against his chest.

_Pain._ That was the first thing he felt as a blinding, white hot pain shot through his body and to the jagged scar on his forehead. He cried out as he fell off the bed and onto the floor. Snatches of conversations and dozens of different settings flashed quickly throughout his mind, assaulting his senses as the pain intensified.

The last thought he had before darkness enveloped him was that maybe, just maybe, he could have changed his mind.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ _Hey, thanks for reading my story! I hope you enjoyed it. More will be coming as soon as possible. If you have any questions, just ask and I'll respond to them asap. This is the first story that I've written that I've really gotten into, so I'm real serious about it. Thanks again._


	2. Inheritance

_Paradise Lost by Nargle Hunter_

_Disclaimer: All characters used from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made off this story._

_Inheritance_

_**Privet Drive, the next day…**_

Harry slowly opened his eyes, his room oddly turned on its side. He groaned and pushed himself onto his knees. His whole body ached from the pain from the previous night's experience. The pain was mainly focused in his head, but falling onto the floor and convulsing hadn't helped much. Slowly, he stood up, stretching out sore muscles along the way. Voldemort hadn't been kidding when he said the transfer was going to be painful. If he had known it was going to hurt that much, he would have chosen a different option. But he done the deed already, so there was no point in whining about it.

He grunted as he stretched out a kink in his neck. He hoped he would never sleep on the floor again, at least not in that comfortable of a position. Seeing his glasses laying on the floor, Harry picked them up and slipped them on, pushing up at the bridge to make them hold. His vision much better now, he checked the time on the digital clock that sat on his nightstand. It was a little over an hour after noon; late in the day to be waking up by his standards. He was surprised that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia hadn't barged into the room demanding that he make breakfast or complete some back breaking chore. Maybe the fear he had noticed in his guardians still lingered.

His stomach let out a low rumble, alerting Harry to the fact that he hadn't eaten since the day before. He went to open his bedroom door, only to find it locked. Closer inspection showed that the doorknob had been reversed, allowing it to be locked from the outside. He frowned, there was no way his uncle would have come in here and left Harry on the floor, unconscious. Even Vernon wasn't that crazy, right? But then, what would his uncle have to gain by seeking medical attention for his nephew. He had a nasty feeling that if he were to somehow die, his relatives would have no problems with it. After all, he was just an ungrateful, lazy brat.

He rattled the knob, trying to see if he could shake the door opened. When that didn't work, he called out, to see if he could garner the attention of the other inhabitants of number 4. That too didn't work. The Dursley's must be out the house, probable smug in the fact that Harry couldn't leave his room. He groaned, sliding against the door and onto the floor. The start of his summer was not going well at all; first he was passed out for the night and better part of the day, now this. When his uncle got back home, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Harry closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to calm himself down. There was no point in getting angry when the source of his problem wasn't there.

Almost instinctively, he let himself into a trance, expanding his magic to feel the surroundings around him. It was coming naturally to him, most likely one of the talents he had inherited from Voldemort. He allowed himself to go on, almost floating around the house. He went outside and felt the neighbor tending to her pristine garden, one that was sure to rival Aunt Petunia. It was an odd feeling, this sensing, this exploration of the things around him. It was almost like he was everywhere at once, yet still sitting on the hard floor of his bedroom. It was an exhilarating experience. He wasn't really _seeing_ everything, but _feeling_. It was more of an aura like sensation he was getting from those around him. Different emotions pulsated from them. Some were stronger than others; others seeming happy, literally radiating joy. He had a feeling he would get a stronger response from magical people. It was a theory he would test when he was a mixed crowd.

He pulled back, tired of his exercise. He was excited though, as that meant that the transfer had worked. He wondered what other things would show up, what other things he would be able to master. Harry stood up once more and walked over to Hedwig's cage. She hooted softly as he opened it up and gently stroked her snowy head.

"Hey girl," he said, holding out his arm for her to perch on. "Did you want to go hunting? I know how you hate being in your cage for too long." As he talked to his familiar, he walked over to his window and opened it up, letting her fly out the window. He stayed at the window, watching her leave until he saw her large form fade off into the distance. There were times like these when he wished he could grow a pair of wings and fly away into the vast, open sky. There were still a few years left until he could be able to break away from the abusive hold of the Dursleys. He would get his revenge on them when it was due. For now though, he would wait and bide his time.

His eyes followed a familiar silver sedan drive down the street and pull into the driveway of Number 4. He watched as the lumbering forms of his uncle and cousin climbed from the car, followed by his horse faced aunt. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at them. How anybody could live they way his relatives did and still survive was beyond him. He placed his ear against the door so he could hear any sounds coming from downstairs. He could faintly hear Vernon mention something about fetching something from upstairs. Good. Harry would be able to have a nice little chat with his 'beloved' uncle. He waited until he heard Vernon walking outside his door before calling out.

"Dursley!" He called out, feeling rather spiteful.

The footsteps slowed to a halt, unsure weather or not to heed his charge's call. Having made up his mind, the footsteps started heading away from the door again. Once again, Harry called out, this time adding a few kicks on the door for good measure. He wasn't about to let his uncle get away with locking him up for forever. He allowed himself a smug smile as Vernon thundered towards his bedroom and tried to open the door, only to remember that it was locked. A few seconds and a loud click later, Vernon threw the door open, his face already a lovely shade of red. "What do you want boy? You'd better have a damn good reason for bothering me!"

Harry calmly folded his arms and leaned against the desk. "Get rid of the lock." He jerked his head towards the door. "I want it gone."

"Listen here _freak_," Vernon blustered. "I don't know where you got the half cocked idea that you can give me orders and expect me to obey them! That lock is there because I don't want your freakiness rubbing off on Dudley. We just cleaned up that mess with the tail. It's bad enough that we allow you to go to that damned school. You'd better count your blessings boy." He took a half step closer to him, brandishing a piggish finger.

Harry just watched, tuning most of his uncle's rant out. "Listen up fat man," he spat out, disgusted. "I'm giving you your first and last chance to do what I say. Put the lock back to the way it was before, or I'll get myself a little target practice in. There's a nice little curse that I haven't quite got the hang of yet." He coolly propositioned. He was feeling an entirely new and dangerous side of him beginning to show and he rather liked it. "I don't have time to deal with the likes of you."

All the red left out of Vernon's face, leaving him pale. His mouth opened and closed like a fish while he searched for words to say. "Y-You can't do that boy! Petunia told me you aren't allowed to do… do _that_ when you're at home. If you do, you'll be expelled!" he spoke as if it were his last line of defense, which in truth it was.

"How do you know the rules haven't changed?" he bluffed. He knew very well that they weren't allowed to practice magic outside of school, but he was counting on the Dursley's dislike of anything magic to aid him with his argument. "That was what, about thirty years ago? Times have changed since then. Just keep everything simple and change the bloody lock back Vernon. There's no telling what I might do cooped up in here all day. You wouldn't want your precious home blown up, would you?" He finished with the most innocent tone of voice he could muster.

Vernon's face turned all different hues of red before he settled on a nice shade of magenta. "Fine." He spat out, having finally swallowed his pride at loosing his eleven year old nephew. "You'll pay for this, you mark my words!"

Harry remained leaning against the desk until his uncle disappeared from sight. He was glad to hear that the door hadn't been locked, as that meant that his uncle had decided to keep his end of the bargain. He exhaled deeply, and sat down in his chair. Tension he hadn't realized he was holding in released from his body. He had been so sure that he would have received a beating for being so insolent. Having been so used to being subjected to the emotional and physical abuse of his guardians, he had been taught to fear them. Be now, after his confrontation, he realized that _they_ were afraid of _him_. He had learned a lesson that would allow him to gain absolute control over his relatives. They were afraid of him and what he would be able to do with magic. He would use that fear and exploit in every way possible.

As he continued to go over his altercation with his uncle, he realized he had changed also. More notably, his personality. He noticed that he seemed to have become a different person altogether. He speculated that it was part of Voldemort's personality that was leaking through. It was an interesting feeling to have. He was still Harry Potter, just a different, meaner, colder version that apparently showed up when it needed to. If his friends only knew that kind of things he was getting up to.

--

The next couple of weeks passed rather pleasantly for Harry. The lock had been fixed on his door and none of the Dursleys had wanted anything to do with him. They didn't even bother to give him chores. Of course, a few slip ups about the use of magic might have had some help with this. While he was recovering from putting on the necklace, a few memories had slowly revealed themselves to him. There was a particular set that he had found to be very interesting to him. A memory about a hidden chamber that built underneath the school during the time of the Founders; the Chamber of Secrets as it was aptly named. Like a man dying from starvation, he was hungry for more information about the chamber.

He was curious to see if there was any hidden knowledge that lay in wait for him. He had gathered from memories of Voldemort's childhood that he too was a parseltounge. He knew that by having that rare and Dark gift, that he would be able to access the chamber and whatever lie within. It only made sense to Harry that there were other things besides a giant man snake down there. He had his father's invisibility cloak, so it probably wouldn't be too hard for him to sneak down to the girl's bathroom. The next letter he had received from the Dark Lord was one explaining the memories he had inherited. Eager for more information about the Chamber of Secrets, he had asked more about it.

He had received a few letters from Ron and Hermione. He had responded vaguely to each of them, supplying answers that would satisfy them. He was already beginning to feel distant from them, like he was their friend just for looks. From the memories he had, he was getting the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be hanging out with the likes of them. Hermione, as smart was she was, was a muggleborn, the very thing he was supposed to be fighting against. And then there was Ron and his families, the Weasley's were considered to be Blood Traitors by all the purebloods. But he wasn't willing to give them up, not yet. They were his first real friends and the closest things to family he'd ever have. He wasn't getting rid of them until the last minute.

He was in his bedroom now working on some of his summer Transfiguration homework. His work was a breeze, the memories he had gotten didn't even leave out homework. The work assigned in the 40's was more or less the same as what he was working on now. The essay he was working on was the last of the work assigned to him for the summer. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice an owl flying through his open window until it had landed on his desk. Startled, he looked up and recognized it as the owl that had delivered his first letter from Voldemort. Glad for the contact, he untied the letter. This time the bird stayed, apparently waiting for a reply from Harry. He quickly opened the letter, excited for the reply.

_-Harry,_

_Your quest for knowledge about the Chamber of Secrets is very interesting. I would not have guessed that you would have taken such a liking to it. Unfortunately, what I have learned about the chamber has already been transferred to you through my memories. There are several books on the subject, but they are difficult to find. I would suggest that if you have the chance, to begin a search at Knockturn Alley. Not many people visit because of its reputation. If you do decide to visit, be careful. It would not do for you to get hurt._

_Because of your interest in the chamber, I have a task for you to complete. It is a dangerous one that is not to be taken lightly. If you do not wish to complete to, please inform me as your life would be in stake._

Harry continued reading, his heart thudding in his chest. He widened his eyes as he read the next few lines. The Dark Lord couldn't possibly be serious! He quickly finished the letter and wrote out a hasty reply. He would do it, if only to prove his loyalty and how serious he was about joining Voldemort. Once the owl left, he sat back in hic chair and ran a hand through his hair, thinking over what he had just agreed to do. He couldn't let himself get caught, especially with Dumbledore watching his every move. It had been done once before, could he pull it off a second time? Yes, he could do it. He could take on the role of Slytherin's heir.

* * *

_Whee! Another chapter finished. Sorry for the wait, I was away for the weekend and didn't get much of a chance to write. Thanks to all who reviewed, they are much loved. I didn't think anybody would like it. I'm going to try to update at least once a week, maybe a bit longer depending on what's happening in my life. Thanks again for reading._

N.H.


	3. Rescued

Harry was a nice, deep, dreamless sleep

_Disclaimer: Don't own it. Characters and some excerpts from the books belong to the great Mrs. Rowling. If I did, it'd be Mrs. Luna Potter. Enough said._

_III. Rescued_

_**Privet Drive**_

Harry was a nice deep, dreamless sleep. He had found that he could practice a bit of wandless magic, though it was very limited. He could summon and banish small objects, but he had to be close to him and it left him feeling somewhat drained. He had been wary at first about receiving notices from the Ministry about his use of magic, but no letters had arrived so far. He knew that it would be some time before he would be able to use it as well as he could with his wand.

A loud tapping on his window interrupted his peaceful sleep. Harry being a light sleeper quickly woke up. He rose from the bed and walked over to the window to see Ron in a car outside his window. That would have been fine except that his room was on the second floor. He opened the window to talk with his friend.

"Ron, what in Merlin's name are you doing here?" he asked, still half asleep.

"We're rescuing you!" Ron said as if it were the brightest idea in the world.

"We?" Harry asked as Fred stuck his head out the side of the passenger's side window. "Oh. Hey."

"Yeah, Fred and George are here with me." Ron replied. "Move over so he can get your trunk."

Harry moved away from the window, still trying to figure out why on Earth Ron seemed to think he needed to be rescued. He did get a letter from the redhead asking if he wanted to come and stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer. Harry had said no, that the Dursleys probably wouldn't let him go. That hadn't been the total truth as he was sure that they would love to get rid of him at the first chance they got, even if it was only temporary. He just wanted more time to work on his magic before school started back up. Ron had probably interpreted excuse the wrong way and thought that he was being held hostage.

"Thanks Ron," Harry said as he helped Fred get his trunk through the window and into the car. "That was a very… _Gryffindor_ thing of you to do."

Ron smiled, not realizing that Harry hadn't meant it as a compliment. "Anytime."

Deciding that he had no other choice, Harry grabbed Hedwig and her cage then scrambled into the back of the enchanted car. "Er… that was a bit unexpected." He said truthfully as they took off into the early morning. "Should I even ask about the car?" He asked, curious as to how they got a hold of a flying car.

Ron gave an embarrassed smile, "It's my dad, he loves all things Muggle. He even has his own battery collection. He loves to tinker and every now and then he'll enchant something. When dad came across this old thing, he went just about nuts. He'd disappear into the garage and the next thing we knew, we had a flying car. Of course mum had a right fit when she found out about it."

"I thought it was illegal to do stuff like that." Harry pondered as they banked over a sleepy village.

"He wrote the laws, so he could put in a whole bunch of loopholes that allow him to keep working." George, who was behind the wheel explained.

"I see." Harry nodded, settling into the seats. He yawned, tired from being woken up so early and being whisked off into the night. He watched the towns roll underneath them until he slowly closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. It had been an interesting night so far. He could imagine the look on Vernon's face when he realized that his nephew was no longer there. How long would it take for him to notice? One day? Two? They probably wouldn't even care. The longer Harry was out of their hair, they happier they were.

Before he knew it, Ron was shaking him awake. "Wake up mate, we're here."

Harry groggily sat up from where he had slid down and looked out the window. The sun was just breaking ht peaks of some distant mountains. He looked out the front window where they were descending towards a large three story house. As they drew closer, he could see some pig pens and chicken coops in the backyard; in the front there was a neat little flower garden and a sign that stuck out, that said 'The Burrow''.

"Touchdown." George declared as the landed with a gentle bump.

"Okay, here's the plan." Fred started, turning around in his seat as they drove up the lane to the rickety looking house. "We're going to go up to our rooms and pretend like nothing happened. When it's time to get up, Ron's going to come downstairs and tell mum that you somehow managed to appear in his bedroom. Mum will be so happy to see you that she won't even notice that we were gone for most of the night."

"That's a good plan and all, but we're going to have to switch to Plan B." George said as he put the car into park. They all looked out the window to see a plump woman come out the house, brandishing a rolling pin at them.

"You three had better explain to me the clock told me you were gone!" She looked dangerous with the pin. As they got out the car, Harry was afraid she'd throw it at one of them in a fit of anger. "What if you had been seen in that car? Your father could have lost his job for your stupidity!"

"But mum," Ron retorted, his voice almost in a whine. "They were holding Harry hostage. We just _had_ to get him out of there!"

Harry almost rolled his eyes at this comment. He had never been asked if he wanted to be 'rescued' from his relatives. He was doing just fine by himself, he had the Dursleys under his control and they wouldn't be bothering him as often. He decided that if Ron asked him if he wanted to come to the Burrow and he didn't want to go, he would give a flat out 'no'. He didn't have to do or go everywhere his friend wanted him to. He followed Mrs. Weasley as she led them inside the house. They had apparently been punished with the chore of degnoming the garden. Harry thought the punishment fit the crime; they should have thought about what they were doing before they went foolishly into the night.

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, so get cleaned up." The Weasley matriarch ordered.

Breakfast was a very interesting affair. He met two interesting members of the Weasley family; the first was Arthur, who couldn't help but to ask about some of the affairs of Muggles. When Harry was asked precisely what the function of a rubber ducky was, he had almost spit out the orange juice he was drinking. He would have to add that to his list of the most interesting questions he had ever been asked. He was spared giving the answer to that question however, when Ron's famed little sister, Ginny showed up for breakfast.

As soon as he was introduced to her by Ron, the eleven year old had paled. Later, when Harry asked if she was excited to attend Hogwarts, she stuck her elbow in the butter dish. When asked about the incident later, Ron explained that she hero worshipped Harry. He also told him that Ginny wouldn't go to sleep without being told a story about the great Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry was miffed that she would have a preconceived notion of who he was and what he could possibly become; The Savior of the Wizarding World. He snorted at that. Right, more like he would be their downfall. He would have to make sure he didn't see too much of her at the Burrow or at Hogwarts. At least right now, she was too shy around him to occupy the same room as him. If she _did_ grow out of it though, and began following him around like a lovesick puppy dog, he would have to lay the facts straight to her –feelings hurt or not.

As he helped degnome the garden, his mind wandered to important things that he would have to do during the school year. Like opening the Chamber of Secrets for instance; _ugh_, what a horrible thing he would have to do. He couldn't really see himself as the type to set out a large monster to kill kids his own age. It was a very heartless and cold thing to do. If he was older and was attacking adults, he wouldn't have a problem with it. They at least knew how to defend themselves and have at least a remote chance of surviving. Whatever morals he had gained while living with the Dursleys was screaming at him about how wrong he was.

Just like the necklace, he had already made his choice and there was no turning back. He would have to gather up the Gryffindor side of him and prove that he could do it, that he wasn't scared out his wits about it. All he needed was a bit more confidence in himself, that was it. Only if he had someone to talk with…. Sure, Ron and Hermione would probably have no problem listening to whatever he had to say, but not about what he wanted to share.

As he let loose another gnome, he entertained the thought of writing to Voldemort. He was probably too busy trying to find a spirit and whatever Dark Lords did, to hear the complaints of an eleven year old boy, no matter how important he may be.

For the first time since he started Hogwarts, Harry was starting to feel lonely.

--

Before he knew it, their Hogwarts letters had arrived and it was time for a visit to Diagon Alley. Harry had passed the time with Ron and the others by playing pickup games of Quidditch. Though the teams weren't exactly large enough for full game, they still had their fun. A few times while they were playing though, he thought he had spotted a small face peeking out the window at them. Harry had just ignored it and continued playing with the other boys.

Harry was now standing in front of the kitchen fireplace, receiving instructions on how to use the Floo network. It didn't look like a very pleasant form of transportation and he could already tell that he would prefer riding his broom. "Yeah, I got it." He replied to Mrs. Weasley's question. "Speak clearly, tuck my elbows in, and don't get out too early." He repeated.

Mrs. Weasley gave him a warm smile. "That's right dear. Percy will go first so you can get a better idea of how it's done."

Harry stepped aside to let the prefect pass. He could have sworn that Percy was a bit smug in how he used the Floo. He laughed as Fred and George supported his thoughts.

"Pompous git." George muttered, making sure he was out of earshot of his mother.

"You got that right." Fred agreed. "Probably can't even sneeze without even expecting a badge."

Harry stepped forward when he was offered the flower pot full of Floo powder. He took a pinch, smiling nervously and tossed into the flames, tuning it into a nice shade of emerald green. He stepped in, reviewing what he was told about using the Floo in his mind. "Diagon Alley!" He called out just as he inhaled a mouth full of ashes.

He tucked in his elbows as he started spinning, not noticing the worried look on Mrs. Weasley's face. Dozens of different living rooms flashed by until he was dumped onto a darkly colored carpet. Standing up, he took a look around his surroundings to see where he had landed.

He was in some sort of a shop, that much he could tell. Sinister looking objects lined the shelves, some with notices about their dangers stated beneath them. Brushing off his cloak, he walked around the shop, looking at the different items for sale. A withered hand sat inside a glass case. The Hand of Glory it was called. Harry read the description underneath it. _The best friend of any plunderer or thief. Place a lit candle in it and it will light the way for only the holder_. He arched an eyebrow, it sounded like a very useful item to have if he wanted to get into any trouble.

It was a very interesting shop he was in, full of what looked to be dark and dangerous items. He moved on to a large book case that lay in the back of the store. His eyes roamed over the titles, looking for something that he could maybe use. He almost gave up with he spotted a book with an eye catching title. _Spells Hogwarts Doesn't Want You to Know: 12__th__ Addition._ That one sounded fun; with a title like that, there had to be useful things inside. He flipped to the index to see what kind of spells the book had. Something about the Trace and how to get it off your wand sounded handy. He was just about to turn to the page when the sound of someone clearing their throat made Harry jump and turn around.

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing greasy hair out of his face. "Can I help you young man?" he asked, his voice just as oily the mess he called his hair.

"I'd like to purchase this book." Harry said coolly, trying to make his voice sound more confident that he felt. As he spoke, he was assailed with the memory of the man before him introducing himself to a young Tom Riddle. Borgin, he gathered from the vision.

"Ah, yes. A very good choice." Borgin said as he rang up the book. "Will that be all Mr.?" He trailed off, obviously wanting Harry's name.

Harry was glad that his bangs were just long enough to cover the scar on his head. He didn't think he wanted to be recognized in such a shady establishment. He pulled out the remainder of the money he had from his last trip to Diagon Alley and held it over the elder man's waiting hand. "Perhaps I may tell you later Borgin, but for now, my name is not important."

"Of _course_, young sir." He replied, his voice laced with thinly veiled greed. "Confidentiality comes first when it comes to my customers."

"Good." Harry nodded, dropping the coins into Borgin's hands. "I wouldn't want to have to go elsewhere." With that, he picked up his new book and left a very curious man behind.

Once out of the store, Harry realized he didn't have a clue as to where he was or how far he was from his original destination. To put it simply, he was lost amid a bunch of creepy looking people that looked like they would try to eat him up. He was just letting his imagination get too him, the lady with the human fingernails didn't want to eat him, just sell him some creepy things.

"Not lost, are you dear?" The woman asked, approaching him with the platter.

He didn't get a chance to answer though as a loud booming voice called out his name. "HARRY! What d'yeh think yer doin' down here?"

"Hagrid!" Harry called out, somewhat relieved that someone he knew showed up. "I got lost- Floo powder -" Harry was cut off as Hagrid grabbed him by the scuff of his neck and drug him all the way out the darkness of Knockturn Alley and into its bright, sunny counterpart.

"Sulkin' around Knockturn Alley, I dunno - dodgy place here Harry, - don' want no one ter see yeh down there -" Harry, knowing that the large man could often underestimate his own strength, ducked as Hagrid tried to brush off some stray soot off of him.

Straightening up and finishing the job himself, he asked, "And just what were _you_ doing down there?"

"Flesh Eatin' Slug Repellant." He replied, holding up a large gray canister. "They've been ruinin' the school cabbages."

A few minutes later, Harry found himself back with the Weasleys and out of Knockturn Alley. Mrs. Weasley almost had a fit when Hagrid told her where he had found Harry and Ron and the twins had looked at him in awe, stating that they had never been allowed there. Harry had just shrugged it off, saying that it was nothing to write home about. Taking a look back to note the entrance for future use, he thought he saw Malfoy and what could only be his father enter the alley. He thought about telling someone about it, but shrugged it off; he honestly didn't care about what they did there.

Arthur, who had asked Bill, one of the older Weasley boys, to get money out of Harry's vault for him, gave Harry a sack full of galleons. Hermione had met up with them and joined them to make their school purchases. Harry told her about his experience with the Floo powder and frowned when she heard he had landed in Knockturn Alley. He had kept his book to his side the whole time, pretty sure that any knowledge of him buying anything from Knockturn Alley would be scandalous to the Weasleys. Arthur, who was delighted by Hermione's parents and had whisked them away to chat about the wonders of the Muggle world.

They all hurried off to get their books from Flourish and Blotts, the only new book store in Diagon. Percy had wandered off, mentioning something about needing a new quill and Fred and George had hurried off to Dervish and Banges, the joke shop. That had only left and Mrs. Weasley along with Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Harry. They soon met up again with the rest of the Weasley clan and made their way to their bookstore.

As they found it, they saw, to their surprised a large crowd that spilled outside the bookstore, each person jostling to get inside. A large banner was spread across the store window, declaring the event.

A man by the name of Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his autobiography called _Magical Me_. They all went inside, the women in there group practically squealing. The line was mainly made up of women that were about Mrs. Weasley's age. Harry wondered what kind of author would garner an audience of this caliber.

"C'mon." Ron muttered, pulling Harry and Hermione away as Mrs. Weasley got in the line. "Mum's not going to leave with out an autograph."

They spent a few minutes catching each other up on their summers, but that was quickly interrupted by an announcement that Gilderoy Lockhart would be making his appearance very shortly. When Hermione actually let out a girly squeal, the two boys looked at her incredulously. That was one moment they wouldn't let her live down.

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, surrounded by pictures of his own cheesy face. He was wearing a set of robes that were a shade of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; a wizard's hat was set at a precarious angle on his golden, wavy hair. All the women in line, Mrs. Weasley included, had a dreamy look on their faces as he waved to his fan girls and sat down.

A short irritable looking man was hopping around, snapping pictures of Lockhart. "Out of the way there." He said as he nearly knocked into Ron. "This is for the _Daily Prophet_."

"As if we care." Ron said, moving himself out the man's way.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up, saw Ron then Harry next. He stared, then jumped to his feet and shouted out. "Can it be? _Harry Potter?_"

The crowd parted, their attention split between Lockhart and Harry. Harry's face burned a bright shade of crimson as he was pulled to the front of the room. "Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart said as the photographer went mad flashing picture after picture of them.

Harry was pulling away, trying to get out of the man's grasp and away from the attention he was receiving from the crowd. If anything, he wished there was some way he could get out of this situation. "Hey, let _go_ of me!" he cried out, elbowing Lockhart in the stomach along the way. He was far too used to being held down by Dudley and his gang to let this pompous peacock get away with it. Besides, he enjoyed being able to embarrass the man in front of his own fan club.

Harry squirmed away from a doubled over Lockhart and rejoined Ron, who promptly gave him a high five. They both received a glare from Hermione, but they ignored it.

"Nice one mate." Ron said with a grin. "You probably knocked some sense into him."

Harry just laughed and watched as Lockhart tried to regain his dignity by making an announcement."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to announce to you that I will be taking the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Not only will your young brilliant children be able to read about me, but they will have the benefit of experiencing the _Magical Me_, pardon the pun, in person." He stopped for the round of applause that followed that statement.

Hermione was beaming at this, her face once again looking dreamy. "Let's go find your mum before this gets any worse."

Before they even made the first step, it did get worse. "I bet you just loved that, didn't you Potter?" Draco Malfoy said, making his presence known.

Harry straightened up, ready for a confrontation. "_Famous_ Harry Potter can't even go into a bookstore without making the front page."

"Leave him alone," a voice piped up. Harry almost groaned, he had forgotten about her. He really didn't need a little girl fighting his own battles for him. "He didn't want all that! You're just jealous anyway."

Draco sneered at Ginny, and then looked over at Harry. "Look Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend._" Ron and Hermione pushed their way forward as Ginny blushed a bright shade of red.

"I'll bet you're surprised to see Harry here, aren't you?" Ron asked, glaring daggers at Malfoy.

"Not as surprised as I am to see _you_ here." Malfoy retorted. "Bet you had to sell you're your whole house to pay for that." He said, jerking his head towards the stack of books Ron was carrying.

Ron dropped his books on the floor, about to fight Malfoy, but was held back by Harry and Hermione.

"Drop it Ron," Harry said, trying to calm his friend down. "He probably can't even fight his way out of a paper bag."

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley called out, making his way through the crowd with Fred and George. "Let's go, it's getting too crowded in here."

"Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley." A man appeared, resting his hand on Draco's shoulder. He had long, platinum blonde hair that was much like Draco's. Harry guessed the man was his father. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Lucius." Mr. Weasley nodded, his face showing no emotion.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear." Mr. Malfoy sneered, mirroring his son's expression. "All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?" He made a show at looking at the state of Ron and Ginny's robes. They looked dingy compared to Lucius' black. "What a disgrace to the name of wizards…"

Arthur's face turned even redder. "I think it is very obvious who the disgrace is here."

"Clearly." Malfoy's face turned to Hermione, who glared at him. "The company you keep Weasley; and here I was thinking you could sink no lower."

There was a flash of red hair as Mr. Weasley attacked Lucius. Ron, who had broken free of Harry and Hermione's grasp, tackled Draco to the ground. It was a free for all as Weasleys attacked Malfoys. Fred and George cheered on their family members while Hermione and Harry tried to break them apart.

"Break it up there gents – break it up!"

It was Hagrid, pushing himself through the spectators. In one swift move, he had picked up Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy, keeping them separated. Hermione and Harry had also pulled Ron and Draco apart. Those who had been fighting had a disheveled look about them. Lucius Malfoy straightened his robes and gathered Draco to him.

"Fighting like Muggles, you really are despicable." He spat before leaving the shop, his son in tow.

The Weasleys and Harry also made their leave, bidding Hermione goodbye after she met back with her parents.

"You alright there Ron?" Harry asked, as they walked to the Leaky Cauldron.

"'m fine." He replied, gingerly touching a nasty looking bruise that was sprouting up. "Malfoy's got much worse than I did."

_**Later at the Burrow…**_

Harry sat underneath one of the Weasley's fruit tree, the book he had found in Knockturn Alley sitting on his lap. He had finally found a place to read without being bothered and was anxious to read his new book. The little mention he had read about the Trace had caught his eye and if it was what he suspected it to be, it would be a very interesting read indeed. He flipped open the book and began to read…

_**Ginny's bedroom….**_

Ginny sat on her bed, sorting through her school supplies to put them in an orderly pile. She already had her stationary out and was pulling out her school texts to skim through later. She was pulling out her Transfiguration book when a smaller book fell out of it. She frowned, picking it off the floor. That was odd… she didn't remember picking out at the bookstore. Maybe her mum had bought it for her and forgot to mention it. It was a thin black book with a year stamped into the front of the book. The date indicated that it was at least fifty years old; she opened it to see if there was anything written on the inside. _T.M. Riddle_ was scrawled in tiny writing on the first page; there was nothing else written though, not even a small scribble.

Ginny shrugged, she had wanted a diary to write in and here was one for her to use. Retrieving a quill and ink, she sat against the door to prevent any of her brothers to barge in unexpectedly. Dipping her quill in ink, she scratched out some words on the paper.

_My name is Ginny Weasley…_

_A/N: Hey, sorry for such a long update! There some stuff I just didn't want to write, but had to anyway for things to make some sense. You guys like it, which is making me feel giddy inside! Long update, but a longer chapter, so you should be happy. If you have any suggestions at all, I'm open to hear them. Thanks for all the reviews, ice scream to all who gave them. Until the next chapter…_

_N.H._


	4. Return

In 1853, the Wizengamot passed a bill stating that all wands purchased by Ministry approved Ministry approved wandmakers must

_Disclaimer: Not mine. J.K. has it all until she dies and places me in her will, which will happen when pigs fly._

_Return_

_**The Orchard at the Burrow…**_

_In 1853, the Wizengamot passed a bill stating that all wands purchased by Ministry approved Ministry approved wandmakers must have a tracking charm called the Trace placed on them. The charm alerts the Ministry to the use of Underage Magic in an attempt to uphold the International Statue of Secrecy. The spell used and is marked in a registry along with the person's name. A warning owl with a threat of expulsion is sent out from the Misuse of Magic office. When a witch or wizard turns of age at seventeen, the Trace is automatically removed from the wand. There is some speculation though that the Trace is not fully removed from the wand. _

_A simple and effective method to avoid the Trace is to purchase a new wand from a wandmaker that does not employ the use of the Trace on their wands. However, such wandmakers are rare to find in Britain and are usually illegal or extremely expensive. For many witches and wizards though, the first wand purchased is usually the one that works best for them. The wand chooses the wizard is very true in this case. A second wand may not prove to be as effective as the first._

_A more guaranteed but more difficult method to use is to remove it completely from the wand. It is not a widely known spell, but is still considered illegal by the Ministry. It removes traces of the tracking charm from the wand and also deactivates the name from the registry. The name still remains, but any underage use of magic is not logged. The wand's magical signature is also removed, allowing some experimentation without detection. For more information about magical signatures, refer to chapter four._

_Caution is strongly advised when attempting to use this spell. Since users usually experience mild to severe magical exhaustion, the removal spell commonly disregarded in favor of purchasing a new wand. If an attempt is made, try doing so before going to bed. Most magical exhaustion is cured overnight with a good night's sleep. The incantation and wand movement are listed below._

Harry skimmed down to read the instructions, ready to at least read what it was that he was going to attempt later that night. The spell was made up of a long string of Latin, combined with a simple looking wand movement. It looked like something he could do and if it turned out he couldn't, he'd just try again until he got it right. Ever since he had started using wandless magic, he'd been fascinated with the theory behind magic. There was more to it than simple wand waving and muttering of words, that much his Potions professor was right about.

Standing up from his spot underneath his shady resting place, Harry flexed his hands. With the guide of the Dark Lord's memories, he had been using his palm to channel his magic. It was actually cool when light flowed from his hands and into the object he was directing it to.

He focused on a fallen peach and extended his left arm out, willing the fruit to float. He had long since mastered summoning and banishing and was now working on levitation. As a guide, he had used some of the spells from his first year books to keep him from getting lost. The peach gave a half hearted wobble before settling back on the ground.

He sighed and tried again, this time giving it some more magic. If he gave it too much power, it would shoot up like a rocket, something he had done the last time he experimented with wandless levitation; he would do it this time though, he wasn't going to allow himself to fail. He felt the magic, closing his eyes pushed his desire with into it. He told it to give a push that was just enough for the peach to hover a few feet above the ground.

When he felt a slight change in his magic, he opened his eyes to see the result. The peach was floating lazily at Harry's eye level, stationary in the breezy air. He allowed himself a small smirk at his success. Although it didn't seem like a major accomplishment, it still was. He had taken a new step in his self training and with more practice, he would be able to manipulate magic further. He had always had the feeling that there was more behind magic than waving his wand and saying a bit of Latin.

Whenever he practiced and allowed his magic to flow through his fingers and into the object of his focus, he always had the feeling that it was alive. He compared it to an eager puppy; it was always excited to bend to his will. It was almost as if it was breaking free from its cage, ready to take on the world at large. He felt more in tune with himself that way and often wondered if Voldemort had come to this realization also. He would have to ask about that when he next corresponded with the man.

He let the peach fall to the ground with a soft thump and began walking to the Burrow for lunch, done with his training for now. As it usually did, thinking about Voldemort had soured his mood. He had the idea in his head that he was going do fail in reopening the Chamber of Secrets, that he was going to fail and get sent to Azkaban and given the Dementor's Kiss. It was a horrible thought, but he just didn't think he was ready for this. Why not give someone else the task of cleansing the school?

He had made a deal though, and was now stuck in it. Constantly, he had tried to tell himself that he was doing the right thing, but he was having a hard time believing that. If it was the right thing, then why did he feel so horrible? He would have to find a loophole, a way to justify his actions. Well one thing was right, everybody from Ginny Weasley to Draco Malfoy seemed to have preconceived conceptions of him. He wanted to lay the record straight and let the world now that he wasn't the Golden Boy they seemed to think he was.

He often wondered what would have happened if the hat had shouted Slytherin like it had wanted to in the beginning. Would they see him as evil and tainted merely because of a biased opinion? Ron, the one who had turned him against the house of snakes in the first place, would probably be quick to shun him. Maybe, if he had another conversation with the Sorting Hat, it would tell Harry exactly _why_ it wanted him in Slytherin.

It was times like these that he felt confused more than ever. He was having an identity crisis and couldn't find a way out of it. If only banging his head multiple times against a desk would rid him of all his problems and leave him no headache, then life would be so much simpler for Harry Potter.

_**September 1**__**st**__** – King's Cross…**_

Tearfully, Ginny hugged her mother goodbye and stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. She was excited to go to the Wizarding School and begin making new friends. She was going to go into Gryffindor, there was no doubt about it and there she would be around her hero, Harry Potter. He was different than she thought he would be. She had been expecting a handsome, strong looking boy; instead she got a scrawny, geeky looking, nearsighted kid who hardly talked to anybody. That was a problem that she would have to fix, he seemed like a nice boy once someone got to know him, and know him would be one of her main tasks of the year.

She pushed her way through the throng of students, looking for an empty carriage as the scarlet engine started pulling away from the station. It was finally happening, she was going to Hogwarts! Suddenly, she felt so small among the larger kids that surrounded her; some made a face at her for bumping into her, obviously thinking that she was just another annoying firstie. Most of the cabins were already full, but taking glance into one of them, she found a familiar face. Setting her trunk on the ground, she slid the door open.

"Hey Luna, mind if I join you?" she asked with a smile. The Lovegood girl was a bit odd, but seeing as she was the only other magical kid in her village, Ginny had visited on occasion.

"No, I don't mind at all," Luna answered from behind the latest edition of the Quibbler. "I've already checked for Nargles, so you should be safe."

"Erm, thanks." Ginny dragged her trunk in and stored it in the overhead compartment. She sat down by the window and pulled out her diary. She was glad that Luna wasn't a big chatterer and was more content to read that goofy magazine of hers because she hadn't written in her diary for a while. The black book was thin and old, but it served her purposes well. She had been delighted to see the ink disappeared every time she wrote in it. That meant that she couldn't go back and read her entries, but if her brothers ever found out about the diary, they wouldn't be able to read what was inside.

With quill in hand, she started writing on the blank first page as she always did.

_Dear Diary, right now, I am on the train to Hogwarts. I'm so excited to go! I'm a bit nervous, especially about the sorting. Every time I try to ask about it, they don't say anything about it at all, not even Ron will tell me. Fred and George say that I have to brew a really complicated potion and that if I don't, I'll be considered a Squib. That's not true, because if it was, Ron would have been sent home right away. Maybe if I ask Harry about it, he might tell me something about it. I wonder what he's doing now; I haven't seen him since I passed through the barrier…._

Currently, the object of Ginny Weasley's focus was brooding, ignoring the looks Ron and Hermione were giving him. He had been feeling even more horrible since Mrs. Weasley had hugged him goodbye. As soon as her warm arms wrapped around him, he wondered if his mother had been like her. Even though he only barley remembered his parents, he missed them something fierce. He desperately craved a loving touch from his own flesh and blood, not slaps and hurtful words from his Aunt and Uncle.

He wondered if there was some way that he could bring them back from the dead. He had never got the chance know them. He laughed humorlessly, startling his two friends. Wasn't it ironic that he had chosen to serve the very evil that orphaned him? Life could be so cruel at times.

Harry was drawn from his dark musings by the sound of Hermione's voice. "Harry, are you alright?" She asked, the concern obvious in her voice.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a sigh, pulling his eyes away from the rolling countryside. "I-I'm just thinking."

"Anything you would like to share with us?"

"No, you wouldn't understand." He looked back out the window, ending the short conversation. In his next letter to the Dark Lord, he would have to ask if there was anybody he could talk to. He could really use a mentor that currently had a permanent body.

There weren't a lot of things on his list to do, but they were all equally important. In fact, there was really only one thing and that was the Chamber of Secrets. He was constantly thinking about what he was going to do; the thing at the forefront of his mind was how he was going to go about it.

It was actually very simple; all he had to do was get his invisibility cloak, sneak down to the Chamber and release the Basilisk. His main problem was how to hide the 60 foot snake from the rest of the school when he took it out. It had been done once before, he was sure he could do it again.

Another thing he needed to figure out was who was going to play the possibly fatal role of the victim. The thought that someone was going to die this year was very frightening. He couldn't really imagine himself actively taking a role to kill someone, especially a person so close to his age. If he had known the types of things he would be getting himself into, he probably wouldn't have agreed to do it. What his parents would probably think of him, he didn't want to know; if his parents were alive though, he wouldn't even be in this situation at all.

Shifting in his seat, he sat up and faced Hermione. He could at least talk to them so he could get his mind off his thoughts.

"How was your summer Hermione?" Harry asked, forcing himself to be cheerful.

"It was wonderful. My parents and I went to France and visited almost all of the museums." Hermione beamed, glad to have her friend talking after almost an hour of silence – talking about something educational probably added to her enthusiasm also. "Did you know that the Louver has a purely magical section as well? My parents couldn't go in of course, but I had a chance to see some of lesser known works of art. I couldn't believe that Da Vinci was actually a wizard…"

Their conversation continued like this for most of the train ride. When Harry told her that he was going to start taking an actual interest in his studies, Ron groaned, saying that Hermione had turned him into a bookworm. Harry had only responded by suggesting that they draw up some study schedules. His summer homework had been relatively easy thanks to his gained knowledge and he wanted to take on more challenging work this year. Though he would probably end up bored in his classes, he would have enough time to start working on some other projects of his own.

He wanted to research more about magic and how it actually worked. He had often been wondering why certain people were gifted with magic and why others were not. He needed to know more about magic as a whole rather than how to practice it. To discover that, he would have to raid the library for his information.

He would have to find a way to have time to do all these things. Between Quidditch, classes, the Chamber, friends and his homework, he was going to have a very busy year. He didn't need to have anything else added to his plate or else he would be burnt out by the time the winter holiday rolled around.

The trolley lady came and went, leaving the Trio with an arm load of candy for them to share. He was feeling more relaxed as time went by. Perhaps it was because he was going back to familiar ground where he felt the safest. He settled back into the conversation, this time talking about the chances of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Before he knew it, it was time to change into his Hogwarts robes and set off for a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_A/N: Yeah, yeah, you thought I was dead and then I give you a short chapter with a long wait. Sue me. As much as I would have like to have written more, this seemed like a good place to stop and my brain was going all funky on me. Hope you like it though there wasn't too much excitement going on this chapter. If you liked it, and I know you did, there's a nice little button right there at the bottom of the screen that says review. Click it, type a few words and click submit. It only takes a few seconds. Feedback boosts my ego! Thanks again._

_N.H._


	5. Removal

Disclaimer: Not mine. It would end a whole lot differently if it were.

---

Great Hall, Hogwarts…

Harry stumbled into the Great Hall, having been pushed in a constantly forward motion by the masses of returning students. He was now realizing that he still didn't like crowds; they were loud and invaded his personal bubble. It was great to be back home though, he thought as he, Ron and Hermione took their places at the Gryffindor table.

Even though he had returned as a completely different agenda and a whole new set of memories, it was still great to be back among the familiar faces of his fellow classmates. Three months was far too long to be spent with his Muggle relatives, even if they did heed his warning and kept their distance from Harry.

This year, he thought as he sat down at the Gryffindor table, flanked by Ron and Hermione, he was going to make a difference. Last year, he hadn't a clue as to what he was dong at Hogwarts and failed to live up to the expectations that others had for them, but now with the aid of Voldemort's memories, he was filled with a sense of purpose. No longer was he going to be a naïve little boy with no clue of what the hell was going on around him. It was time he placed himself in control of the surroundings he was in and let everyone know who Harry Potter truly was. Of course, he would have to let it out a little bit at a time, but there was sure to be a marked change in the Boy-Who-Lived.

---

Not really paying attention to the Sorting, Draco Malfoy watched Harry as he whispered among his friends on the other side of the Great Hall. He was thinking, planning on how he would make his offer to the Golden Boy. The only solution he had so far was to send him a letter, explaining what it was he wanted.

The day before Draco left for Hogwarts, his father had given him the task of getting to know Potter as a friend, not an enemy. He had almost laughed when his father had told him that. Didn't the patriarch realize that he had burned those bridges the first time he had met the boy? He would be impossible to even gain a small amount of Potter's trust, let alone become his friend.

He had wanted to ask why he was supposed to have a sudden change of heart, but had held his tongue, already knowing what the response to that question would be.

"Just do what I tell you and don't worry about why."

He shook his head, watching as a new Hufflepuff joined their new house. How he was going to please his father and make friends with Potter, he had no clue. Any open relationship with the Gryffindor would ruin Draco's carefully built reputation with his housemates; surely his father of all people would realize that?

No, the best option for him would be to declare a private truce. A simple case of 'You don't mess with me and I don't mess with you,' should do it. Or so he hoped. His father should at least be able to see that he was trying something, even if he didn't get results right away, because results weren't what Draco was expecting.

If Potter declined his truce, he would have to find another way to go about it. After all, weren't Slytherins supposed to be cunning and resourceful? Right now, he wasn't feeling like he was living up to his House's traits.

---

Harry finished clapping for the final student to be sorted and turned his attention to the Headmaster's speech. It was almost the same one he had gotten the year previous with the exception of the warning about the Third Floor corridor, for that which he was glad. No stupid three headed dog that he would have to try to get past. Though what happened when he went through the trapdoor had changed his life for what he hoped was for the better, he still didn't like thinking about what had happened down there. He had almost lost his life, something that Harry wasn't planning to do, ever.

Stomach rumbling as the distinct smells of food appeared, Harry piled all his favorites onto his plate and dug in, making conversation with his housemates. He wasn't really in the mood to talk, but there were appearances that he had to maintain.

Tom Riddle had been good at faking it and some of that had leaked into Harry's demeanor. Unfortunately – depending on how you looked at it – Harry was more interested in who he could make possible allies with. It was almost like he was seeing the kids around him in new eyes, starting with his two closest friends.

Out of the two, Hermione was the most useful. Once he got past her lectures, she was the most resourceful when it came to gaining knowledge. If she didn't know anything about a subject, she'd be able to tell a person all about it the next day. Harry didn't know how she did it, but he admired her for her skill. As for Ron. He was good at chess, and that was just about it. Just because the boy could beat almost the whole of Gryffindor in a game didn't mean he was good at strategy. So far, Ron hadn't shown that he could really do anything. In fact, Harry could go as far as saying that his friend was below average. If Harry couldn't find any use for Ron, he'd have to ditch him.

"You know Ron, you should try out for the Quidditch team." Harry suggested. Who ever said he still couldn't be nice?

"Wha-?" The redhead mumbled through a mouthful of chicken. He swallowed before replying, much to Hermione's relief. "I thought you guys didn't have any positions open."

"We don't, but I bet we could talk Oliver into having a reserve team." He quickly replied. "Anything that would give us an advantage over the other teams is something he's sure to love."

"Alright then, we can go talk to him tomorrow." Ron said before turning his attention back to his large pile of food.

Harry continued with his meal, talking with Hermione about their upcoming classes and overall, having a pleasant breakfast.

---

Later that night, Harry sat on his bed cross-legged, behind the safety of his curtains. His eyes were closed and his breathing even. For the past several nights, he had taken upon himself to practice his aura sensing abilities. Like with anything he did, the more he practiced, the easier it became to allow himself to fall into his self induced trance. With ease, he pushed outwards, feeling the pulsating auras of his roommates. They all had the same relaxed feel about them since the other four boys were fast asleep.

He lingered on each of the boys, getting a feel as to how their auras felt. At first glance they all felt the same, but the longer he observed, the more he could spot the subtle differences between each on. For instance, Neville's seemed to be held back a little, more reserved and calm, whereas Ron's aura vibrated faster, appearing to have more energy about it. It made sense that the auras would reflect upon their personalities and he wondered just how deep it went. It would give him a chance when it came to meeting strangers.

As soon as he mastered using his abilities at a moment's notice, he would work on being able to do it while his eyes were open. The Dark Lord had also managed to progress to this stage and Harry figured that he should be able to do the same as well. He pushed himself outward, traveling into the common room. Naturally, there was no one down there at this time of night, but he still wanted to get a feel for it all the same. There were varying swirls of magic on dotted about the walls. The entrance to the common room had the highest mass of swirly stuff. He realized that he must have been looking at the portraits on the wall. It made sense, seeing as magic was used to animate the portraits.

It was interesting looking at everything from this perspective. Magic was so heavily depended on that most people would be lost without it. Only muggleborns and few half bloods would be able to truly appreciate it's benefits. The purebloods, well they had been around magic even if they hadn't been able to use it until the start of school. They took it for granted. Harry knew that much just talking with Ron. When he had told him about cleaning things by hand, Ron had been surprised at it all. Too many years of having things done for him at a moments notice had spoiled the poor boy.

Harry continued discovering the different features of the common room for several more minutes before returning back to his dorm. He waited a few seconds, trying to get a feel for his own aura. He had to hover just outside his body to get a good look at it, and what he found was interesting. It was a calm blue, indicating his relaxed state, but it had a murky quality to it, almost as if he was looking at it through muddy water. His was different. He knew that much just from looking at the auras of his dorm mates. He wondered if it had something to with the fact that he had Voldemort's memories and if there was some kind of taint on them. He'd take the time to ponder it later. If he hadn't had to go to his classes in the morning, he would have kept going all night. It was so fascinating to watch. Later though. When he had more time. He also needed to find a time to perform the spell to remove his Trace. This weekend would probably be the best time. Most people expected students to sleep half the day after the first week of classes, his 'lie in' should go unnoticed.

As he switched himself into a more comfortable position, a small smirk flitted across his face. In a few days time, he would be free in that aspect. He'd still be under the watch of Dumbledore, but at least when he went home during the summer, he'd have time to practice more of his magic without fear of reprisal.

---

The next morning found Harry sitting in the Great Hall, sandwiched between Ron and Hermione. He was overlooking his schedule, trying to anticipate his day. Ugh. He had Lockhart today. It was just what he needed to start his school year. An incompetent. Logic that came from both Harry and Voldemort stated that there was no way he could have done all those things like he said, yet people still believed him. He wondered how the man managed to get away with it. It proved to serve how naïve the wizarding world really was. He had long since learned to take everything with a grain of salt since learning about magic. If it got to be too bad, Harry would just leave. He had better things to do with his time.

It was with those thoughts in mind that he entered the Defense classroom after Hermione. He started when she took both his and Ron's hands and dragged them to sit at the front of class.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I wanted to make sure we got a good seat." She replied. "It's not everyday that you get the chance to be taught by someone so brilliant."

"Is that why you drew hearts all around his name?" Ron asked, a bit grumpy that he had to spend the period at the front of the class. "Because his smile is just about the only thing brilliant about him?"

Blushing, Hermione glared at the redhead. "Since when did you have permission to snoop?"

"I couldn't help looking over and noticing." Ron retorted. "I don't see why you're so obsessed with the peacock."

Sensing an argument sprouting forth, Harry interrupted the pair. "Did you read the transfiguration book? There's some rather interesting theories." Talking about their upcoming curriculum seemed to do the job of distracting Hermione before things grew out of hand.

As Hermione replied, Harry sent Ron a look. This wasn't the first time he'd stopped an argument. The only reason why he really did it was because he was tired of the two bickering all the time and was hoping to nip it in the bud. There were only so many rows he could stand before he would snap at the two for being the main source of his headaches.

The time passed as students filed into the classroom. It seemed Hermione wasn't the only girl who had the idea of sitting in the front row. By the time the whole class arrived, almost all of the girls filled up the front half of the desks, while the boys sulked in the back. Harry honestly couldn't blame them. Just about the entire female student population, and some of the teachers as well, swooned over the blonde celebrity. Actually, as he thought about it, it was good for Harry, since he was a celebrity himself and some of the attention was off of him for the moment. Either that or everybode had gotten used to him already....

The minute Lockhart entered the classroom from his attached office, Harry had a feeling that this next hour and a half would be something that he would really have to figure out how to survive. It could have been the garish yellow robes or the way he strutted around. Or maybe it was the covered cage that rattled every now and then that gave Harry that sinking feeling in his pit. The man looked worse when viewing him from the front row of the room, and his cheesy smile just made him want to puke.

Lockhart clapped his hands together for attention, though there was no need. The girls were all eyes and the boys had nothing else better to do but to watch their Defense Professor. "Good morning class! I'm sure that you're very excited to have me teaching you the tricky art of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I just wanted to let you know how lucky you are to have me, since I was about to embark on a trip to investigate a Lethifold infestation in a poor, unfortunate village. It was just in time that Headmaster Dumbledore contacted me and I told him that I would be very happy to teach the students of Hogwarts." He stopped, the stupid grin still on his face. "So, on that note, to see how many of you have studied my books, I prepared a small test for you."

The whole class groaned at the mention of a test on the first day of classes. Harry hadn't even picked up the textbooks since he bought them, let alone read them.

"Not to worry, not to worry." Lockhart sent the tests floating to the student's desks. "It's only fifty short answer questions. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Harry looked at the parchment that had floated gently onto his desk.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

What the hell?

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest ambition?

This was Gilderoy Lockhart's idea of a test? It was a joke. He glanced around, catching Ron's eye. He looked like he was just as amused as Harry was irritated. Hermione was already scribbling on her parchment, answering the questions in her neat little handwriting. Shaking his head at his friend, he picked up his quill and started answering the questions as best as he could.

Fifty questions later, Harry set his quill down on his desk, throughly disgusted with the test. If he ever had to take something like that again, he'd kill himself before he ever attempted it. A few minutes later, the entire class was finished and Lockhart was reading off some the answers.

Twenty minutes later, and that was over. Harry was curious to see what the lesson would be. He only hoped that it wouldn't be as ridiculous as the quiz.

"This," Lockhart gestured to the object that was covered by a cloth. "Is the subject of our lesson. Now, be aware that they are highly dangerous creatures, and may attack at a moments notice." He looked at the frightened faces of his audience. "But be not afraid, Professor Lockhart is here and will protect you if it needs be."

He pulled the cloth off.

The majority of the class gasped, then breathed a sigh of relief. Harry snorted. Really? The man thought that a class full of second years would be afraid of a bunch of pixies?

Seamus' exclamation voiced his thoughts.

"Cornish Pixies? Is this really your idea of danger?" The boy said.

"Ah, do not underestimate them boy. They are trickier than you think. Delightful little buggers who like to play tricks on their unsuspecting victims. They have been known to cause a quite bit of harm to wizards. But I'm sure you can handle them." Lockhart winked. His face lit up as he seemed to be struck with a sudden idea. "In fact, I'll release them and give you some personal experience with dealing with them. If you need any help, just say so." Before the students even had time to pull out their wands for protection, the professor opened the latch, releasing the blue pixies.

Chaos ensued.

The pixies, suddenly free, decided to try and make the biggest mess possible. Half the population of the classroom, the Defense Professor included, exited the room in the quickest time possible. Books flew all over the classroom, breaking glass, and even a few burst into flames. The pixies laughed at the havoc they were creating, throwing stuff at the few remaining students.

Harry had found himself crouching behind a desk, trying not to get brained by a lamp flying through the air. This was utterly stupid. Some teacher they had if the man was just going to let loose a bunch of wild creatures and run away, expecting a group of second years to take care of it. If this was what Lockhart thought of first hand experience, it was completely idiotic.

He wasn't really in the mood to fight battles that weren't his own, but as Neville started to become the primary focus of the pixie's attention, he sighed and decided that there was at least something he could do.

"Hermione!" He called out to his friend, who was hiding on the opposite side of the room. "Don't you know some sort of spell that'll stop them?"

"Hold on a second, let me think!" She yelled back.

"Well hurry up! I don't think Neville is going to last much longer."

"Hold on.... wait a minute! I know one!" Hermione's excitement was evident in her voice. "Immobulus!"

All the pixies in the room slowed down, looking around at their slow motion bodies in wonderment.

Half an hour later, the pixies were in back in their cage and the classroom was back in proper order. The Defense Professor hadn't shown up, so the trio, plus Neville and a couple of other students had been left to clean up the mess themselves, and it sucked. He should have just left with the other students when the mad rush for safety first occurred. Let Lockhart come back to his classroom to find the pixies still running amuck and take care of whatever damaged was caused.

---

The first week of class seemed to pass in a blur. Besides their farce of a Defense lesson, nothing entirely too exciting had happened. The teachers were the same, though they expected more of him. Since it was their first classes of the year, just a general course outline was reviewed and they started on some of their work. Transfiguration was as hard as usually, and Snape was acting his usual cheery self towards Harry and his fellow Gryffindors.

Harry and Ron had managed to find Wood and talk to him about a reserve team. The Captain had seemed intrigued about the idea and said that he would talk it over with the other five members of the team. Ron had been bubbly for the remainder of the day at the thought of getting onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team, even if it wasn't a starting position. A spot was a spot and he was going to at least try.

Before Harry knew it, Friday night was there and it was time to try and remove the Trace from his magical signature. The little homework he was assigned was already finished, much to the approval of Hermione and nothing was scheduled for the next day, so he was good to go.

His instruction book in hand, Harry climbed into his bed and shut the curtains, adding a silencing charm at the last moment. His dorm mates were in bed already and he didn't want to wake them up should anything untoward happen. He remembered clearly, what he had gone through when importing the Dark Lord's memories.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he flipped to the chapter about the Trace. He wished that he could have done this while at Privet Drive, or even the Burrow, but he would have been more than likely to get caught in his not so legal endeavors. Hogwarts had been the best place to try the spell, so here he was.

His eyes skimmed the page, lighting up when they found the removal spell. The incantation and wand movement were simple. The hardest part about it was the backlash he would feel, mostly physically, and most likely magically as well. It would suck. But that's why Harry had waited until the weekend to do this. The ends justify the means.

He practiced the wand movement a couple of times to make sure that he had it down pat. He was trying to tell himself that he wasn't stalling. His experience with unknown rituals had left Harry wary of what it would do to his body, but this sounded easier, and much less painful than sticking on a necklace.

Steeling his nerves and taking a deep breath, Harry moved his wand in a complicated pattern, saying the incantation with the last flick of his wrist.

At first, nothing happened, then a tingling sensation ran up his wand arm, coursing throughout his body. The tingling moved throughout his body, reaching from his head to his toes. For a few seconds, the feeling was stationary then suddenly contracted into a tight ball in the center of his chest.

Unused to such a foreign feeling, Harry gasped, clutching his chest. He tried taking a deep breath, and started to panic when he realized that there was no air reaching his deprived lungs. Before he could try to do anything else though, as quickly as it had come, the tingling disappeared with a flash of white light.

Heart pounding madly, Harry took a deep breath, grateful for the oxygen, and took stock of his condition. Besides feeling extremely tired all of a sudden, he didn't feel any different, and there was no way to really be sure that the spell even worked. He grabbed his book, and looked for something that would verify that the spell had been a success. Near the bottom of the entry, it said that a white light meant that it would work, while a red one confirmed the opposite.

Glad that the spell had worked, Harry sank back into his pillows, falling asleep less than a minute later.

----------

A/N: Guess what? Another chapter. Hope you guys like it and aren't too mad at waiting over a year for and update. Thanks for the reviews and for those that told me to update. I started University, so I'll work on this in my spare time. Lately, I've been writing it on the bus. Don't worry, it's not going to take another year for me to update. My muse just wasn't working at the time. But now I'm back. Hopefully.


	6. Surprises

Harry Potter not mine. If it were, I'd own a lot more books.

--

_Surprises_

--

It was a sleepy Ginny that walked into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table, searching for some friends, or maybe even one of her brothers to sit with. She had been at Hogwarts for a little over a week and was still getting used to waking up two hours earlier than she usually did. She was now leading a more active lifestyle, and for a while it had been uncomfortable, but she adapted. Ginny spotted the twins, their heads leaning together in whispered conversation, and decided that it would be much safer for her to sit at the Slytherin table that it would be with those two pranksters. If they didn't try pranking her, they'd at least try to rope her in and get her to help out with one of their stupid stunts, which usually meant being a test subject for a spell they had made up. It was too early in the morning to start dealing with that kind of trouble.

She was about to consider sitting next to Percy at the other end of the table when she heard her name called. "Hey Ginny."

The first year's eyes widened in surprise when she noticed who was speaking with her. "Erm, hiya Harry." Ginny really couldn't believe that Harry Potter was talking to her. When she had first seen him during his stay at the Burrow, she had made a fool of herself, and took it upon her to avoid Harry like the plague. She supposed now that they would be in the same house for six years, they would have to talk with each other at some point. She just never figured it would be so soon. Ah, what better time than the present? "How are you?" She continued.

"I'm doing great. It's nice to be back at Hogwarts." Harry replied with a smile. What a lovely smile. "Would you like to sit next to me?"

What? Oh. It was then that she remembered that she had been looking for a seat and was still standing up. "Sure." she responded with a blush, taking the offered seat on the bench.

"How are you liking Hogwarts so far?"

"Oh, it's lovely. The castle is much bigger than I thought, and it's very beautiful. The sorting wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. My brothers said that I would have to fight a troll. So far the classes aren't bad. Lockhart is an idiot though. Snape's an absolute git, my brothers were right about that one. And --" Ginny stopped abruptly, realizing that she was rambling. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was talking so much."

Harry's eyes danced with amusement. "No problem, I like your enthusiasm."

Wow, he had such pretty eyes...

"Why thank you."

Ginny blinked, wondering what Harry was talking about until she realized that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. She looked down, allowing her hair to fall around her face, hopefully hiding her mortification. At least she hadn't gotten made fun of. Ginny was glad that Ron wasn't there to make her experience even more embarrassing. It wasn't like she needed someone else there to point out her huge lack of speaking before she thought.

"Hey, don't hide yourself, Ginny. It's nice to get a completely honest compliment."

Her blush receded, but she still didn't look up. Harry Potter was such a nice boy, she thought, this time keeping it within the confines of her mind.

She was spared from making an attempt at further conversation by the arrival of Ron and Hermione. Ginny focused on making herself a decent breakfast and concentrating on everything but Potter.

The boy with the lovely smile and pretty eyes.

--

_**That night...**_

Ginny sat on her bed, surrounded by the closed curtains of her four poster, her diary at her lap. Before she had found it hidden amongst her school books, she would have laughed at the idea of keeping a diary. She was very much a tomboy and had found diaries to be something a little too girly for her. Now that she had started writing in it though, Ginny realized that it was very comforting, especially since she had started Hogwarts. She could pour her soul into it, and no one would ever find out. Her diary was special, and any time she wrote in it, the ink would disappear into the book. It was nice to be able to write out secrets without fear of them being discovered. It was hers and hers only. Her diary made her feel safe.

She opened the diary, dipped her quill in ink and began scratching out her entry.

_Today I met Harry Potter. Well, I actually met him when he stayed at the Burrow, but this morning was the first time I really talked with him. He's such a nice boy, and not a glory seeker like most people make him out to be. I accidentally told him that he had pretty eyes, and he didn't make fun of me like I thought he would. I was lucky that none of my brothers were there to hear what I said. They would never let me live it down. Prats._

_I know I haven't talked about him much. When he was one, he defeated You-Know-Who and survived a Killing Curse. Ron's best friends with him. Last year, when he wrote home about his new friend, no one believed him for a while._

_I would like to get to know him better. Mum's told me plenty of stories about him when I was a kid, but I don't think she told me about the real him. Only Ron and Hermione really know him. It would be nice to be included in his little group, even if I am a year younger than him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He didn't seem to mind talking with me at breakfast. In fact, he was the one that started the conversation. Maybe next time I talk with him, I won't like like an idiot. Every time I've talked with him, it was obvious that I had a crush on him. He probably knows that. It's a wonder he hasn't run away every time I enter the room. I'm sure that if I were him, I'd head for the hills.  
_

Ginny stopped writing, and shook out her hand as she watched the words slowly fade away.

_**If he is a nice as you say he is, he will be more than happy to be friends with you.**_

Ginny gasped as the spindly words appeared in her diary. For it to talk back to her was the last thing she was expecting. Interesting. She waited to see if more words would show up, but none appeared. Curious, she wrote back.

_Do you think I should try?_

_**Yes.**_

_Why?_

_**Because . . . there is a lot that you could offer him, and you seem to like him well enough.**_

_I guess you're right._

She tapped her quill against her chin. _What are you?_

**_A memory. Locked inside my diary. Nothing more, nothing less._**

_Why?_

The ink faded, and for a few moments, nothing happened. Ginny almost closed the book, but the ink reappeared with an answer.

**_There are so many different experiences that I have. Writing them into a book would take too long. It's the little details that cannot be expressed through mere words. That is why I have placed the memories of my first sixteen years of life into this diary, so that others may see what I have seen, hear what I have heard._**

_It sounds like you have had an interesting life, then._

**_I would love to share some of my adventures with you._**

_Maybe tomorrow? I have to go to bed now._

**_Sure. I look forward to talking with you. Goodnight._**

_Night._

Ginny closed the book and let out a tired yawn. What an interesting discovery. Not only was she able to hide her secrets in the diary, but it could talk back to her. Wicked. The ability to contain an actual personality within a book was also interesting. She had a feeling that there was some kind of powerful magic involved and wondered what it would take to hide a memory in a diary, but that was another question for another day.

Feeling a little possessive over the diary, Ginny tucked it underneath her pillow before laying her head on it. It was her little secret.

A few minutes later, Ginny fell asleep.

And promptly sat up.

Her eyes opened, revealing a set of cold, dark green eyes. She held out her hands and flexed them, getting used to the feeling of having a body. Ah. How nice. A little young and weak, but it was better than nothing.

Swinging her legs out the bed, she smirked the smirk that was most commonly seen on a young Tom Riddle.

--

_**The next evening...**_

Hidden underneath the folds of his invisibility cloak, Harry yawned as walked carefully through the halls of Hogwarts. His exhaustion from the removal of the Trace the previous night was still affecting him, though he had slept away most of the day. Saturday, he hadn't done much besides laze around the common room and work on a little homework with Ron and Hermione.

Anxious to get started on the task the Dark Lord gave him, Harry had decided that he would open up the Chamber of Secrets and take a little peek around. So, after everyone was asleep, he went out on his little adventure.

As he silently passed another Prefect making his rounds, Harry found himself grateful for the fact that he had his invisibility cloak. Without it, he would have never been able to get around the school unnoticed. If only the Headmaster could see the irony of giving him the cloak. Use it well. Yeah, that was what Harry was doing.

Checking that the coast was clear and that there was no person or portrait that could see him, Harry opened the out of order bathroom door and slipped quietly inside. Though the coast was clear, he still kept his cloak on. He remembered overhearing exactly why the bathroom was out of order. It was haunted by a ghost that had supposedly died in here. It was only used in the case of an extreme emergency. Harry wasn't sure what would happen if Moaning Myrtle found out that he was in here reopening passages only known in legend.

Using his borrowed memories, Harry stepped forward, and walked around the sinks, looking for the little snake by the tap that marked the Chamber of Secrets. Upon finding it, he smirked, and pulled back on the hood of his cloak, focusing on the tiny stone snake.

"_Charles_." Harry hissed the little snake's name which came easily from the store of Tom Riddle's memories. The stone snake appeared to uncurl from the tap and peer up at Harry.

"_You are not Master_." Charles said to the disembodied head.

"_No. I have come in his stead. I am your new Master_."

"_You may speak Master's language, but you are not my new Master._"

"_I am taking over from your own Master, and you will obey me._" Harry replied, frustrated with the snarky little reptile. It never treated him this way before. He shook his head. No, it had never treated Tom Riddle this way before. The snake held secrets, ones that Harry wanted to get it. There was more to the Chamber of Secrets than just a giant snake, and to access them, he had to get Charles to let him through.

"_Bring my Master here and she will decide if you are my new Master or not._"

"_Your old Master is long gone. I ca-- wait. She?_" Harry blinked in confusion. "_Your old Master wasn't a she._"

"_True, the one before her was a he, but this one is a she._" Charles was a little too smug for Harry's liking.

He frowned. "_Are you telling me someone has been into the Chamber recently?_"

_"I haven't said that at all. Only that she is my new Master_."

"_Would you please tell me if 'she' has been inside the Chamber._"

"_No_."

"_Do it anyway?_"

"_No."_

Harry's patience was wearing thin. If he could, he would strangle Charles for being so daft, but as it was, it would be impossible seeing as he was made out of stone. He couldn't kill something that wasn't alive to begin with.

"_Has she been here in the past month?_" He asked, trying a new approach.

"_Yes._"

"_What was she doing in there?_"

_"Looking around. At what, I shan't tell you."_

_"Open."_

_"No."_

_"Why not?"_

_"You are not Master, and only Master is allowed in."_

"_Fine._" Harry grunted, pulled his hood back over his head and exited the bathroom.

He couldn't believe the audacity of Charles. He had more authority to get into the Chamber. He was going to find out who 'she'. The surprise of another person wanting the same things he did had worn off, morphing into irritation. No one else was supposed to get in. He was the heir of Slytherin, not some nameless girl. He wasn't even sure if she knew the secrets, or the beast that lay within. Whoever it was, they were in for a world of hurt.

---

The Following Morning...

Harry glared at his breakfast of oatmeal and fruit, still angry at the previous night's discovery. He had stayed up for a few more hours, trying to figure out who could possibly be trying to usurp him, before he had even gotten a good start on his task. Who would be bold enough to try and gain entrance to the Chamber of Secrets? Besides himself of course. He started out across at the Slytherin table, picking over the familiar faces of the girls. He had already ruled out most of the first years. Parkinson and Bulstrode were both too stupid to find the location of the Chamber, let alone get inside. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it couldn't be any third year or below. Sure, their house was known for the ambition and cunning, but the younger years hadn't been in school long enough to even start trying to seek out the knowledge of the Chamber.

So that left him with the upper years.

Harry didn't know them enough to sort out who was capable of what, and wasn't even sure if he was on the right track. Or house. Tearing his eyes from the Slytherins, he looked at the remainder of the Great Hall, trying to find the one female that was the source of all his problems. Moodily, he stabbed at an apple and took an angry bite out of it, imagining it was the head of his rival. If he could call her that. Harry didn't even know what the girl was up to, or if it was even a girl. She could be one of the teachers. Or someone that didn't even live in the castle.

Merlin. Just thinking about all the possibilities made Harry's head hurt. It was too early to think about this sort of stuff. He was thankful it was a Sunday, or else his bad mood might carry on into his classes. He realized that he would have to find a way to set up some kind of trap to catch the culprit, or else his life would be made into an even bigger mess.

He sighed, realizing that his friends weren't with him. Not that he cared any more. He wasn't going to have them keep thinking that he was their real friend. It was a bond that he would have to cut some time or another. It would take some time to slowly unravel the strings of friendship, but it was critical to his plans. There would be a time where he would come out as follower of the Dark Lord, and it would only hurt Ron and Hermione even more if he was still associated with them. In fact, it could even get as bad as the public thinking that they were in league with Harry. In a way, he felt like he was protecting his friends by not being friends with them at all.

He was thinking too far into the future though. Anything he put into action would be at least a couple of years away.

Hefting a sigh, he stabbed at a peach slice and angrily bit into it.

"Morning Harry."

Harry looked up to see Hermione and Ron approaching the table. "Hey you two. It's about time you guys came down for breakfast."

"It's not that late, Harry. There's still an hour left. You just happened to come earlier than you normally do." Hermione stated as she sat down on Harry's right.

"I'd rather be sleeping at the moment. I don't see the point in coming this early." Ron muttered. "There's no one here except nerds and Slytherins."

"So then which one are you, Ron?" Harry asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Hungry. That's what I am."

Harry and Hermione laughed, and looked up as the owls arrived with their morning post.

Harry was surprised to see a grey barn owl swoop down and land in front of him, sticking out a leg with a letter attached. For a minute, he thought it was the Dark Lord, but then realized that he didn't recognize the handwriting.

He took off the letter and the owl promptly flew away.

Ignoring the curious looks his friends gave him, Harry broke the seal and read the letter.

_Potter,_

_My father seems to think that we'd get along just famously. I think both you and I know that's not so. How about we call it a truce for this year? I don't bother you, and you don't bother me. I'm sure that would work, right?_

_Malfoy_

Stopping himself from frowning, Harry folded up the parchment and placed it in an inside pocket of his robes. Interesting little development. It was odd that Malfoy was wanting to call a truce, and apparently wanted nothing from Harry except for his agreement.

Naturally he wanted to say yes. Malfoy was only trying to please his father, and if it left Harry without worrying about the ponce, then he was fine with that.

His eyes flitted over towards the Slytherin table, where he caught the blonde's eye. He nodded discreetly, Malfoy doing the same.

That was all that was needed.

---

As was seeming to become habit, Harry climbed out of bed, tossing his invisibility cloak on as he did so. Once again, he was sneaking out on an errand for the Dark Lord. He had a feeling that after a while, he would get tired of this. But for now, it would be worth it in the long run.

He muttered a quiet silencing charm on his feet, and exited the Gryffindor Common Room.

His mission for tonight was to find another entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. He didn't have any memories of Riddle finding any other entrance. Harry supposed that it was because the teenaged Dark Lord had found the one in the girl's bathroom and had left it at that. Since he wasn't able to get in through that first entrance, Harry figured that maybe he would be able to get in elsewhere.

His only problem was that Hogwarts was so big, and he didn't really know just where to start. The Chamber lies underground, and Slytherin was known for his love of dungeons. As cliched and stereotypical as it was, for Harry, it was the most logical place for him to start. Besides, if he couldn't find another entrance, he'd at least know a bit more about the school and it's many secrets. Or so he hoped.

It didn't take long for Harry to reach the lower levels of the school. Thanks to his cloak and a silencing charm, he had managed to avoid the nightly patrols and any portraits that were awake. He would be hard pressed to find an excuse as to why he was wandering the school so late.

He was just walking now, looking for signs that would mark the Chamber entrance. A depiction of a snake was the most obvious choice, but it was made harder by the fact that a majority of the halls were decorated with snakes placed here and there.

He tried thinking of a way to find it faster, but could come up with nothing. Right now, Harry would just have to walk around, searching for his entrance.

He ached to pull out his wand and use the light spell to supplement the low lighting the torches on the wall provided, but he was afraid that he might get caught.

The dungeons were freaking creepy at night, Harry thought to himself. The low torches flickered as he passed, creating scary looking shapes on the wall. This was not the place to be at night. He only hoped that he didn't come across one of Hogwarts' numerous ghosts. They weren't so bad during the day, but he wasn't too sure he'd be able to handle seeing one after dark. Especially if it were the Bloody Baron.

Now there was a thought. He didn't know how long the ghost had been at Hogwarts, but there was a possibility that he may have come across something that looked like an entrance. The more he thought about it, the more Harry realized that it would be nigh on impossible to ask without drawing suspicion. So as quickly as that idea had come, the thought left Harry's mind.

He turned a corner, eyeing the different statues and portraits. He desperately hoped that the girls' bathroom wasn't the only entrance. It would be stupid if it were. Slytherin would surely be smart enough to put more than one exit to the Chamber of Secrets. There was no telling what would go wrong, and just where one would need to escape.

The statues he passed glared down at Harry as he passed by, as if they were daring him to go any further into their domain. He tried not to gulp, and kept walking, turning down random corridors whenever he felt like it, allowing himself to go deeper into the dungeons.

It was getting cooler, and he pulled his cloak tighter against himself, trying to stave away the chill. He wasn't entirely too worried about getting lost down there. He knew the entire place like the back of his hand. It was like Harry himself had lived in the Slytherin territory for seven years.

Despite the doom and gloom, the dungeons were somewhat welcoming, though why someone would want to live down here, Harry couldn't imagine. At least in Gryffindor tower, he felt a little more open.

He trailed an invisible hand across the stone, looking for exactly what, he didn't know. There were many emblems representing Slytherin down here, and finding something that looked like it was hiding something would most likely be difficult. He had a feeling that it would take more than just this night to find his entrance.

Harry stopped, and took a look around. The air was musty and damp down here. He had never been down in the school this far, and was sure that he was somewhere underneath the lake. If he couldn't find the Chamber entrance, he at least hoped that there would be something interesting down here. Hogwarts had many hidden secrets, some of which Harry would be more than happy to find.

Taking a glance at his watch, he realized that he had been in the dungeons for over an hour, and still hadn't found anything worthwhile. Perhaps some research would be in order before he went on a mindless search. He hoped that he would be able to find something in the library that mentioned some secret passage that led to nowhere. Or something. Harry wasn't one to give up so easily, but he was tired, cold and annoyed.

Stupid snake and stupid girl.

He should have started earlier. On the first day of school. If he had known that he would have ended up with a rival, he would have.

He could always write to the Dark Lord and see if he had anything to offer. Maybe he had learned more about the Chamber of Secrets after leaving Hogwarts, which was why Harry probably didn't have the memories just yet.

This was useless. He had taken the time to come all the way down the the dungeons in the middle of the night, and ended up empty handed. Bullocks. Next time he wouldn't come down until he was sure he had a lead.

Hefting a sigh, Harry turned around and started heading back up towards warmth and the Gryffindor tower. A little research would be in order the next day.

--

A/N: College kills, folks. First full week, I got a cold, then celebrated my 18th birthday. Life happens. I constantly think about this fic though, so don't worry. I plan on finishing it sometime this century. Once again, thanks to those who review. I always stalk my inbox and I read and reply to them all. Tell me what you loved or hated about this chapter. Is there anything I could do better? Feedback is much enjoyed.

~N. H.


	7. Discovery

_Disclaimer: College would be taken care of if I owned HP._

--

_Discovery_

--

Harry lazily flew around the Quidditch Pitch in circles, waiting for the try outs to begin. Those who were already on the teams were doing warm ups while Wood talked to the hopefuls for the team. There were twice as many kids as usual, prompted by the fact that it had been announced that Gryffindor would be starting a reserve team. It gave more people a chance to play Quidditch, and the team would also have an advantage. If someone got knocked out for during the game, it would be a simple matter of calling in the reserves.

This tactic would especially work when it came to playing against the Slytherins. It was no secret that the house of the snakes played dirty. It almost seemed like it was in their second nature to do so. Harry figured it wouldn't be long for the other teams to adopt the idea of having a reserve team. It made sense, and he actually wondered why, after all the years that Hogwarts had Quidditch, there was no reserve. At least Gryffindor was in the lead in that regard.

As he completed another lap, Harry swooped a little lower, looking for the red head of Ron who was trying out for reserve Keeper. At breakfast, it took a lot of effort on Harry and Hermione's part to get Ron to eat. The poor boy was a rack of nerves.

Harry smiled upon spotting his friend. At least he looked just as nervous as the other kids that were with him. They would have a lot to live up to if they were going to be taking over Wood's position in case of emergency.

He flew a few more laps around the pitch, and was soon joined by hopeful reserve Seekers.

There was five kids, two boys and three girls, all of them older than Harry. It was then that he realized how lucky he was to have gotten his spot on the team at an earlier age. He didn't think waiting until second year to try out for the team would have been any success. He was young and inexperienced. Well not any more, he wasn't.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "Alright, since one of you guys will probably be taking over for me in case I get knocked out in a game, I get to choose who gets to do that for me." He met the eyes of the five of them, glad that they had enough sense to keep quiet for a few moments.

"Fly three laps around the pitch to warm up, and meet me back here." He watched with satisfaction as they took off on their brooms.

Harry was grateful to Wood for allowing him to pick his own backup. He wanted someone he could trust, and what better way to do that than to pick the new reserve himself? By having them do a few laps before they really started the try outs, he would be able to see how they handled themselves on a broom. When his Seekers were half way finished with their laps, Wood flew up to him.

"How's it going so far Potter?" The Gryffindor Captain asked.

"Not bad." Murmured Harry, his eyes never leaving the Seekers. "Collins' broom lists to the left a little, but he's managing. Two of them, I'm sure need a little more help with their flying. I don't think they've done it much before now. As for the last two," He shrugged. "They're not too good or too bad. I'm just glad that we're not replacing myself."

Oliver laughed. "Keep it up, and you'll be replacing me as Quidditch Captain. Don't be too hard on them. They'll get better with time."

"And with your psycho practices, they'll learn to hate you like the rest of the team does."

"I wouldn't do them if they didn't work."

"Sure."

"Whatever, Harry. Just be sure you let me know when you pick the lucky winner."

"Of course your royal greatness." Harry teased before flying out to meet the incoming fliers.

He waited until everybody was in front of him and began talking. "Okay. The try outs for reserve seeker will be very simple. Each of you will get ten minutes to go after the Snitch. It doesn't matter if you catch it or not, I'm just looking for how you handle yourself with your broom and against an opponent, which will be me. I'll be honest, I'm not going to be nice. I will try my hardest to make you crash, lose sight of the snitch, or just plain make you lose."

Harry had been planning the try outs for a good week or so, coming up with different ideas to test the players out, and simply playing against them had been his best idea so far. He wasn't worried about getting tired too quickly. The trials would take only an hour or so, and Harry had played for much longer than that in his games. For him, it would be like a warmup.

"Any questions?"

They shook their head no. What more was there to ask?

"Good." He pulled out some marbles from his robes and held out his hand. "Pick a marble. Whichever number you pull, that's the order in which you will go against me."

And so it began.

For whatever reasons, Harry had expected worse from the players. They weren't bad, and as each one went up against him, he found that they had tried their hardest to beat him. Ten minutes each wasn't nearly long enough to test all their skills, but it was enough to where he could see what potential they had.

Out of the five, only three had caught the Snitch, one of which was pure luck. Still, it was great that they had been able to get it in so little time. It had also helped that the Snitch had been contained within half the pitch so that they wouldn't get in the way of the other players.

By the end of the hour, Harry had picked a reserve Seeker. They wouldn't know until the next day, after the team had gotten together and talked about the trials.

Hot and sweaty, he turned to face the players. "You guys all did a great job. Tomorrow, there will be a posting of everybody who made it onto the reserve team tomorrow in the common room. Don't bug us before, then, because we're not going to tell you until everything is finalized and posted."

Harry stayed on the pitch for a few more minutes to answer questions and talk to Wood about his pick for the team. One of the girls, Elision, had shown great skill, and though she hadn't caught the Snitch, had proved that she could hold her own against Harry in the search for the Snitch. She had turned out to be more aggressive than he had expected, and had even brought him close to crashing once, but it was what he needed.

--

Sitting in a secluded corner of the library, Harry stared blankly at his book. It had been over a week since he had tried going into the Chamber and started his research, but he still found nothing that hinted at a separate entrance. He was growing frustrated, and tired of the search.

He had checked old blueprints of the castle, books that detailed the history of Hogwarts and its Founders, but still nothing. He had even asked Hermione if she knew anything about the school's passages, but she knew about as much as he did about it.

Harry turned the page, skimming over some information about tournaments held in the school. They sounded interesting, but they had been canceled on account of too many deaths. Besides, it wasn't what he was looking for.

He yawned, setting the book aside, and picked up another. It was then that he remembered the Restricted Section and the hundreds of books that lie within. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten the place. He hadn't really thought about going there, because getting permission would be something tricky, and it'd certainly be noticed if he was seen going in there. It was usually fifth years and above that had any business visiting the exclusive place. He could always use his cloak though. It was easy enough to get inside, he had already done that the year previous while trying to find information on Nicholas Flamel. It should be simple to get inside again. Harry didn't really know what he would find in the Restricted Section though, the books there weren't exactly nice, and looking for something that mentioned some hidden places inside of Hogwarts. It wasn't like he was going to find a book devoted entirely to the Chamber of Secrets.

--

**_Hogwarts' Library..._**

Harry always knew he had some sort of dumb luck. There were times where he got it good, and others when he got it bad. Right now, he wasn't sure which kind of luck it was. He felt it was more stupid than anything. Five minutes in the Restricted Section, and he had found the book that he had been looking for. The book that he thought he wasn't going to find. It had been so easy to find that it was almost like someone had heard his thoughts and placed it there for him to find. He suppressed a shudder, trying not to think of the implications of those thoughts. Still, it was uncanny...

As creepy as it was, it was still kind of funny. He snorted, turning the book in his hands. It was written entirely in Parseltounge, and he had only recognized it thanks to his memories. The script looked wiggly, like snakes moving across the page, and reminded him of what little Arabic he had seen in his twelve years of life.

There was no title on the book, and it was thin, bound in black leather, almost reminding him of a book he only had fuzzy memories about. Making sure that he wasn't going to get caught, Harry whispered _Lumos_, and opened the book.

_My father keeps threatening to leave the castle, despite the other's efforts to have him stay. He says that once he finishes his little project, he may leave for an undetermined amount of time. I don't know what he's working on, but whatever it is, it is being done on a grand scale. Every time I ask Father about it, he gets all secretive, and tries to change the subject._

_He disappears for hours at a time, with people I've never seen before. I asked Rowena if she knew anything about it, and she said that the men were engineers of some sort._

_I think one of these days, I shall follow Father and see what is going on._

Harry's eyebrows rose as he read the entry. Obviously, it was a journal of some sorts, but if it was what he thought it was, then it was priceless. It may not have been an account written by Salzar Slytherin himself, but it was something written by his kid, which would be just as valuable.

He flipped through the book, skimming the entries. Lots of mundane stuff that he could look over later. He didn't find anything else noteworthy until he was close to the end of the book.

_I finally found what I was looking for, though I am not too sure that I like the results._

_I had found a chance to follow Father. I followed him to one of the new towers that is being buil__t, and saw him open up a passage hidden behind a painting of little children. I had to wait a few more minutes to go after him. When I did, what I found was beyond belief. I found myself in a great chamber, almost as large as the Great Hall itself. On both sides of the wall were multitudes of snakes, carved into the sides of the chamber's walls. At the end of it was a statue of Father, his beard flowing down onto the stone floors._

_I knew whatever he was building was big, but I would have never thought that it would be something on that grand of a scale. I left quickly before Father caught me. Obviously, he wanted to keep it a secret, even from his own daughter. It would be difficult to explain just why I was spying on him. I don't know what he plans to do with his chamber, but it will be incredible once it is finished._

_I wonder the others would think if they learned about just what Father is building. Gryffindor won't be too happy about it, that's for sure. Ever since Father started talking about being more restrictive about who would be able to attend this new school of theirs, he and Godric have gotten into more fights. And to think, they were like brothers at one point. I only hope that they are ab--_

Abruptly, the entry stopped. Harry turned the page to see if it were continued on the other side, but the rest of the journal was empty. Whatever had happened to the author, he could only assume the worst. He was just glad that he had found the information that he did. His hunch about another entrance was correct. At least he would be able to get into the Chamber and complete his task. And at least he would be able to tell the Dark Lord that he had made some headway on his assignment.

If he ever wrote back to him again... The last time he had exchanged letters with the man was before school had started, telling him to open up the Chamber. Harry would have written him himself if he had known how to reach him. The past few letters had been sent without Harry first sending a letter. Truth be told, he had never actually sent a letter in reply. He had just done what he was told and didn't think anything else about it. Besides, he didn't even know if a letter would reach Lord Voldemort as there was never a return address, and if he was in hiding, there was no way Harry would be able to contact him.

Closing the journal, he shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on those thoughts. He had found what he was looking for, and now needed to get out of Restricted Section and back in the safety of his own bed before he got caught, invisibility cloak or not.

Carefully, he placed the book back in its place on the shelf, extinguished the light from his wand, and quietly made his way out of the library. At least now, he was on the right track for success. Tomorrow, he'd find the portrait the journal mentioned, and explore the Chamber of Secrets and within the proper amount of time, he should have his plan in the works.

--

History of Magic was easily one of the most boring classes in the history of Hogwarts curriculum. Taught by a ghost that died probably before any of the students in the class were even born, the only thing worth listening to was the subject of the Goblin Wars, but even that had quickly become boring after the first week of classes. History of Magic was a time period mostly used to catch up on homework or lost sleep. The only person that actually seemed interested in Professor Binns' lessons, was Hermione, who somehow managed to take diligent notes every class.

Today though, she was less interested in the subject of today's lesson, instead worrying about her currently dozing off friend. She knew that something had happened last year with the Sorcerer's Stone incident, though Harry had never talked much about it. He had talked about his encounter with You-Know-Who, but had never gone into much detail, and Hermione, being the good friend that she was, never tried pressing him for information. That didn't mean that she couldn't worry about him.

Since their little adventure with the Stone, Harry seemed a little more distant. He was always disappearing and now looked like he was suffering from a lack of sleep. His grades had gotten better, but that was the only positive change that she had noticed in him. Hermione was worried that he might be getting depressed. She had even talked to Ron about it, and he had said that Harry hadn't been himself lately.

It had then been decided that Hermione would confront Harry. At first, Ron had volunteered to do so, but then she had pointed out the fact that he would probably end up being too blunt about it and starting an argument, which wasn't really their goal. Hermione was convinced that she knew the proper way to go about doing things. They had a free period before lunch, and Ron and Hermione had decided that that time would be the best time to talk to Harry.

It wasn't much longer until History of Magic ended and all the students slowly filed out the classroom, yawning along the way.

"Harry, didn't you want me to help you with your Potions essay?" Hermione asked.

"Actually, I finished it last night." Harry replied.

"I could look it over for you if you'd like." She offered.

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. "Sure."

"Well if you two are going to waste a perfectly good free period studying, I'm gonna go see what the twins are up to." Ron said, making a face at the mention of studying.

Harry laughed. "If that's what you think Ron, then we'll see you at lunch.

"Alright. See ya." Ron said, heading the opposite way down the corridor.

--

Half an hour later, Hermione had finished reviewing Harry's potion work and was no preparing herself to talk to the boy. She hadn't realized that she would end up feeling nervous about it, but she did and all she could do was to squash those feelings down and talk to her friend.

"Harry, I've been meaning to talk to you…" She started off slowly. "You've been acting odd lately. Is something up?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You haven't been yourself Harry. You've been, well distant."

"I've been busy, that's all." He replied quickly.

"You've been busy doing what?"

"Projects…." He looked away. "Personal stuff."

"What kinds of personal stuff Harry?" Hermione wasn't giving up. She felt duty bound to figure out what was wrong with her friend. "You know Ron and I are always here to help you, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure? You don't seem fine, Harry. I'm really worried and so is Ron."

Harry snorted. "Ron's not worried. He never notices stuff."

"What are you saying Harry? Of course Ron's worried. His best friend won't talk to him." She admonished.

"All Ron cares about is food and Quidditch, Hermione." He snapped.

"Harry, stop that. Ron's your best friend. Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it's true." He said with a sigh, wondering why Hermione didn't see this. Ron never noticed anything unless it was something that directly related to him. The fact that he had noticed Harry's change in habits was somewhat surprising. He supposed he shouldn't have underestimated his friend.

She knitted her brow. "What's going on with you Harry? You'd never say something like this before."

"First time for everything, isn't there?"

"I guess you're right. But it doesn't change the fact that you're acting weird."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"You are Harry." She picked her words carefully, trying not to antagonize him any further. "You're always off being secretive, and now you're saying hurtful things about your best friend."

"Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"You're getting all defensive now Harry. What are you hiding from us?"

"What would I have to hide to you two? You and Ron always have to know whatever the hell I'm doing at the moment. Why don't you just keep your nose out of this?"

"We're just looking out for you, Harry."

"I told you already. I'm fine." Harry growled out.

"Well I don't think so. You're hiding something from me Harry and I don't like it." She pressed on, only having his best interests in heart.

"I never said you had to." Tired of the interrogation, Harry stood up quickly from his chair.

"Harry," Hermione looked at him with sad eyes, "I just want to help."

"Then leave me alone about it, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I said so." He growled out before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Now, if you don't have anything else worthwhile to say, I'll be going."

Her frown deepened. "Fine then. If you need my help you now where to find me."

"Yeah, in the library with your nose buried in a book."

"I need to go find Ron." Hermione picked up her bag and pushed past Harry and exited the library, trying to hold back the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

With a sigh, Harry left, feeling like the jerk that he was. Hermione had caught him off guard with the sudden questioning, and he didn't know how to respond to it. But he did feel that it wasn't in her right to go prying into his business. What was he supposed to say? That his personal project consisted in trying to open up the Chamber of Secrets so that he could set the monster loose on the school?

Yeah, like that would go over well. He was sick and tired of all the secrecy, and it had only yet to begin.

Harry had made his commitment to the Dark Lord, and there was no way he was going to go back on it. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

If you can't beat them, join them…

The old saying popped into his mind. Right now, as an twelve year old, he wouldn't be able to beat Voldemort. Body or no body, the wizard was too strong for him, and if things hadn't turned out the way they did with the Stone incident, he would probably had been killed down there. At least he had been able to preserve his life a little while longer, even if it was at such a high cost.

--

With a small smile upon his face, Harry stared at the portrait, happy to have found another entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. He still couldn't believe that finding it had been so easy. After he gave up scouring the castle and started researching the chamber, it had been almost too simple. If there was anybody helping him out, Harry didn't want to know. The thought that someone knew his secret was a little too creepy to think about. He was just trying to write it off as an incredible stroke of luck.

He was glad for the free period that he had in between Transfiguration and Charms. At this time of day, there wouldn't be any students roaming this part of the castle, which would allow him to enter the passage in the middle of the day. It was a risky choice, but Harry was getting tired of getting up in the night and sneaking out, several times in a row, especially with Quidditch practice starting back up in a week or so. Plus, he'd only be away for a few minutes, no one should notice he wasn't on the grounds, like he had told Ron and Hermione he would be.

He had had to make sure that he wasn't going be followed by the pair. He could tell Hermione was still hurt by his words, but she still stuck on and was trying to 'look out' for him. It made getting away harder, but he managed to get it done. Lately, he had gotten better at sneaking out. He only had about an hour to take a look at the Chamber, so it'd be just a quick walk around to get himself used to the feel of the place.

The painting that was in front of him was a simple one, filled with children playing outside on a large field. It had been rather easy to find, seeing as there weren't any other painting of children on the seventh floor. Now, he just had to figure out how to get it to let him through. Hopefully it wouldn't be as idiotic as Charles was.

He stepped closer to the painting, trying to figure out who to talk to. "Excuse me." He quietly interrupted the children's play.

The children all stopped, and looked at Harry with varying expressions of curiosity. One of the younger girls stepped forward. "Yes? Are you lost?"

"No. I'm…" He paused, trying to phrase his question properly. "I heard about a secret passage here, and was wondering if you would let me through. "

"Ooooh. You're the first one to ask about it in forever." The girl replied, cheerfully smiling. "It's nice to finally have someone interested in us."

"Yeah well the stupid snake at the other entrance wouldn't let me through." Harry grumbled.

"Oh you mean Charles?" The girl asked with a small giggle. "He's a little grumpy at times. If you ask him nicely, he'll let you through."

"I did." Or at least he thought he did. "He mentioned something about having a different Master besides me. I don't suppose you would know something about that?"

"Nope. Like I said, we don't get used often. But it is true that he's only allowed to open up for only the Master." She paused, her brow furrowed in thought. "And that rule applies to us as well…. And if you say someone else is the Master, then why should we let you through?"

Harry wasn't expecting this. He should have just kept his mouth shut and asked for passage. Now he might not be able to get in, which would cause him even more frustration. "Because…" He thought for a moment. "Because I think you're much nicer than Charles, and I'll only use your entrance if that's what you would like. You did say that no one comes through here any more."

"Hmm. I suppose I can allow you passage. That is, if you know the password…" The girl trailed off, giving him a coy look.

"Password?" The book hadn't mentioned a password. Unless it was the same as the entrance in the bathroom. He mentally focused on an image of a snake, and spoke. "Open."

The girl shrieked in laughter, and nodded her head. "That's right! Enjoy."

Instead of swinging open like he expected, the painting swirled into a bright mess of colors. Harry stared at it for a few seconds, wondering what he should do.

"Don't be afraid. Just step through. We won't bite." He could hear the laughter in the child's voice, full of sparkling mischief, and for some reason, instead of frightening him, it made him feel better about stepping into the unknown.

And so he stepped with the ringing sound of children's laughter following him.

--

_A/N:_ I guess you can count on monthly updates for the time being. I know I don't post a ton per chapter, but it's what I can get out and I try to be consistent in length. At least I update, right? Thanks for those that reviewed, and excuse me for not answering them this time around, but that doesn't mean I don't love you guys! I love feedback, because it makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside. I do have to admit, I didn't like how the Quidditch trials came out. It was more filler than anything, and it turned out a bit awkward, I know. I've realized that I like getting down to the heart of the matter, which doesn't always include a lot of dialogue. But enough for rambling, I'm sure you want to review and get on to reading something else.

And before I forget, a special shout out goes to Claire. Without you, I couldn't have gotten the library scene written right. It was perfect, with no hint of Claimes!


	8. Awakening

_Disclaimer: If I were She-Who-Is-Super-Rich, I would have better muse and faster posting._

_--_

_Awakening_

--

Stepping through the portrait was an experience like none other. As Harry passed through, there was a liquid sensation that coursed throughout his body, causing him to shiver slightly. It felt almost as if he had been surrounded by the oil that composed the canvas.

He paused, and took a look around to get his bearings. Not that he could see anything. Wherever he was, it was pitch black, and he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. "Lumos." The light spilled forth from his wand, and he blinked quickly to get use to the sudden change in lighting.

It looked like he was in a long corridor that sloped ever so slightly downwards. Carefully, he walked forward, not sure of what he could meet while he walked through. He was expecting some kind of protection that would prevent him from entering the Chamber. Surely just parseltongue wouldn't be the only thing used to guard the Chamber. He would have figured Slytherin to be more paranoid than that.

But then his memories hinted at the contrary. All the other entrance required was a hissed word. Which in itself wasn't that great of a protection. If someone managed to memorize a phrase, they could enter and exit the Chamber at will. He shook his head at the lack of logic wizards seemed to posses. Some things just made no sense. But that would be all the better so that he could easily get inside.

He followed the corridor for several minutes, feeling the air grow colder and moist. It didn't take long before the corridor changed. At least he thought it was a tunnel. It had gone from smooth, carved stone, to a round sort of opening. He stopped, and once again took a look around.

The new section was round and it looked it was covered in metal of some kind. In fact… Harry was sure that it was metal. From the looks of it, it was a pipe. One large enough to fit the Basilisk.

He kept walking on, wondering why exactly the school had pipes that big. It had to be something that Slytherin had come up with so that he could move around his snake. As he thought about it more, he realized that there wasn't exactly a lot of plumbing available back then. He scrunched his nose when he started thinking about how exactly Hogwarts accommodated the students when it came down to the calls of mother nature. Gross.

Eventually, the tunnel ended, intersecting with another. It sloped steeply down into darkness. He had a feeling that this was the tunnel that led down from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Canceling his light spell, he stowed his wand away and jumped.

The ride down was worse than he had expected, but thank Merlin, it was short, though a very abrupt end. He had been ejected onto something very crunchy, and when he brought himself onto his feet and relit his wand, Harry realized he had landed on bones. Thousands of them. They looked like they were skeletons of various rodents, and a few larger creatures.

He shuddered, ignoring the mess and started walking towards his destination. Along the way, he passed a large snake skin, one that looked like it had been there for decades. At least he knew the size of the monster he would be controlling. From his memories, the Basilisk was larger than the current skin, and perhaps even larger when he considered the sixty something more years that it had to grow.

Leaving the skin behind, Harry quickly came up to the second set of locks that guarded the Chamber of Secrets. Again, getting in was devilishly easy. "Open." He whispered, excited that he was finally getting in. Talk about major progress.

The snakes slid back, emerald eyes glittering in the light of his wand. Once the wall parted, Harry entered the Chamber.

As he stepped in, a wave of terrifying nostalgia overcame him. There were pillars shaped like snakes, standing as sentinels for as far as he could see. Memories of going down there and opening releasing the snake assaulted him. He could feel the lingering emotions of triumph at being in control of so terrifying a monster.

He smirked, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the Chamber. It didn't take long for him to round the corner and stop in front of the gigantic statue of Salazar Slytherin. The entire statue spanned from floor to ceiling, his long beard flowing across his chest. Slytherin's face reminded Harry of a monkey, but that didn't stop the founder from looking so impressive.

Now that he was finally here, he felt apprehensive about releasing the Basilisk. He was concerned that he would receive the same treatment about having two masters. If the Basilisk didn't acknowledge him, then he'd be running into some serious problems. Hopefully everything would turn out to be alright.

Gathering himself, he tilted his head up to the statue and hissed out in parseltongue, "_Speak to me, greatest of Hogwarts Four._" He felt foolish to call the Basilisk in such a way, but it was the way it worked.

With a loud grinding sound that was magnified tenfold by the vast, open space of the Chamber, Slytherin's mouth slowly opened wide. Harry took a few steps backward as the largest snake he had ever seen in his life slowly spilled forth. It was in fact larger than the snake skin he had come across, and looked like it truly was the king of snakes. In the back of his mind, he idly thought that it looked like Salazar was actually throwing up the snake.

He watched with a strange awe as the Basilisk slowly coiled itself onto the stone floor and it was at the last minute that Harry remembered to look down at the floor so that he wouldn't get caught in the snake's deadly gaze. He looked as if he were bowing to the Basilisk, and thought maybe perhaps he was. The Basilisk was considered to be the king of snakes, and could understand why. Looking down was the safest way not to get killed, and bowing his head would be shown as a sign of respect. Snakes were proud creatures, and the Basilisk would be the most proud of all. He was at the top of the food chain, and trying to command it would be no easy feat.

"_Who is it that awakens me?_" The Basilisk asked.

Awaken? Would that mean that whoever was playing the role of the 'other' Master hadn't yet actually brought the Basilisk out of hibernation. "_Your Master._"

"_I have no Master._"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What was it with insolent snakes? All they ever tried to do was piss him off when he first met them. "_I am your Master, and you will acknowledge me as such_."

"_And who are you to claim me as yours?_"

"_The answer to that is not important_." Harry smoothly replied. "_You will obey_."

"_No._"

Harry was beginning to hate snakes. So far, the ones that he had met wanted to act like nothing but children. And it wasn't getting anywhere.

"_Ramses…_" Though he wasn't looking, he could hear the Basilisk flinch at the use of his name. Good. Tom had never used the snake's name, thinking it beneath him to be at such a familiar level with a servant, but Harry found that sometimes, a name was needed to remind one of their place in the world. "_You are my servant, and you will act as my servant. When your service to me is finished, you will be rewarded for your loyalty. Do I make myself clear?_" There was a finality in Harry's tone that gave no room for argument.

"_Yes… Master._" Ramses answered, though there was a note of hesitancy in his voice.

"_Now, there is someone else that might come to try and claim to be your Master. They are an impostor, and you are forbidden to do anything for them. It is me, and only me that you obey_."

"_Do you wish for me to eat this impostor?_"

Harry chuckled dryly. "_Don't do anything to them. Just let me know what they try to do._"

"_Of course, Master_."

--

Halloween.

After much deliberation over the matter, Harry decided that's when the Heir of Slytherin would first strike. Most of the student population would be gathered in one place, with the Professors to look over the proceedings. And he already had the perfect alibi in place. His parents had died on a Halloween night all those years ago. Though he didn't truly feel sad, he would use that date as an excuse to stay in his dorm for the night. He'd have several hours to let out Ramses, attack, and get back to his bed. It also helped that most were superstitious on Halloween, which would increase the fear in the student population.

Preparations for that night shouldn't take too long. He had a couple of weeks to act depressed, so that when he announced his reason for not wanting to go down to the Halloween feast, Ron and Hermione would be more than willing to leave him alone. He already hadn't been hanging out with the two for a while, they would hopefully brush it off.

So far, it was the only solid plan that he had. It wasn't foolproof, but things should be able to work out in his favor.

--

_FLASH_

"Hiya Harry!"

_FLASH_

Harry blinked and pushed the camera out of his face before yet another picture of himself could be taken. He had heard about the Creevy boy and the first year's infatuation about the Boy-Who-Lived and thus tried to avoid the kid for as much as possible. He had actually gotten further than he had expected, and surmised that it would be inevitable that he would have some kind of interaction with the kid sooner or later, though Harry preferred that it would be sooner. Much sooner.

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to get a picture of you. I'm muggleborn, and before I came, some of the older students told me how famous you are and that you're the one that defeated You-Know-Who, and I just thought I'd try and meet you for once." Colin said, excitement radiating off of him in every way possible. "And maybe if you can, you'd autograph a picture for me?"

"No."

"Please? My brother would be so excited if I sent him a picture back home. You see, he's a year younger than me, and I'm pretty sure he's going to be starting here next year. At least I think he's going to start Hogwarts. I think when he was smaller, he had some accidental magic. Of course then, we didn't know what it was. Mum got freaked out cause she didn't know what was going on. I'm glad she didn't think he was possessed, cause that would have been terrible. Can you imagine if she tried to exorcise us? Anyway, when my dad found out about magic, he nearly fainted. I guess -" Colin stopped, realizing no one was there to listen to him ramble he looked around and spotted Harry's retreating form. "Hey, Harry, wait up!" He called out, running to catch up with his hero.

Trying not to groan at being caught trying to escape the fanboy, Harry turned around, an expression of measured patience on his face. "Yeah?"

"About that pictu--" Colin started.

"I already said it once, no."

"But why not? I mean, you're Harry Potter!"

"And you're Colin Creevy. It doesn't mean that I'm automatically going to hand out autographs just because everybody knew who I was before I even did. You've already got your pictures. Ones that you took without my permission, now scram before I break that camera of yours."

Harry watched as Colin walked away, dejected. He was glad that there was no one there to witness the interaction, and that most of all, Hermione wasn't there. He could clearly imagine the disapproving look she would probably give him for crushing the poor kid's hopes. He wasn't in the mood for it. Not for her, or her stupid questions that she wasn't going to get a straight answer for.

As much as he didn't want to talk with Ron and Hermione, he knew he'd have to so that he could set his alibi for Halloween.

With that, he continued on to his destination to meet up with his friends in the Great Hall for lunch. He hadn't gotten very far when someone else called out his name, although this time, the voice wasn't as excitable as the first, and if it was, Harry would be very worried indeed. Extremely worried.

"Potter! Get over here, now, if you would." The expression on his face, Harry had trouble identifying, though he detected some sort of twisted amusement. Not good.

"Sir?" He asked, turning around, but staying in the same spot.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest, drumming his fingers on his forearm. "Now. Where were you off to in such a hurry? Leaving a distraught little Gryffindor in your wake wasn't necessary, now was it? Lunch only lasts an hour in a half... Surely you don't need to be there the moment food is served?"

Harry tilted his chin up. "No sir. I'm working on a project, and I need the time to finish it."

"A project? Hm. I wasn't aware of any special projects planned by any special teachers. And either way, it's not a very good idea to waste time instead of working on said project... Is it?"

"It's an independent project of mine. That's why you haven't heard anything about it. You've always called us a bunch of dunderheads, and I think it would be better if I knew more about your subject, so that I can be more prepared in class. As for wasting my time, is going to lunch for a few minutes a true waste of time?"

"So, the great Potter prodigy is actually studying? Hm. For some strange reason I doubt that. Perhaps because of the fact that you've shown very little to no interest in ever wishing to be prepared for my class. Therefore, I dub you a liar, Mr. Potter. However, I'm known to be wrong. But at this point, I do not doubt myself. Lunch is never a waste of time. But again I'm drawn to the fact that you're lying. My class begging for your attendance isn't for another two class periods after lunch... I'm onto you. There's something going on. And I will figure it out." He placed his fingertips together, an amused look on his features. "However, you should 'get to lunch'." He quoted the words with two fingers. "And then of course, 'work on your project'." No more air quotes, but Harry could hear it in his tone of voice.

"If it has never occurred to you, _sir,_" Harry replied, his face reddening slightly in anger. "I am actually capable of learning something from your classes, despite your questionable teaching methods. I could say the same about you, sir. There is nothing going on, sir. Haven't you recalled? I'm not intelligent enough to try anything. Us Gryffindors aren't capable of higher thinking, unlike your Snakes."

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Snape paused, giving Harry a calculating look. "But then again... You've always shown definite signs of a Slytherin nature... Have you not?"

He smirked. Harry couldn't help it. The hidden irony was too much for him. "Hit the nail right on the head, haven't you sir?"

"Therefore, my thoughts that you're up to something have thoroughly increased." He smiled in a sickeningly sweet manner. "Aren't you late now? Or would you like to stay and falsely defend yourself a few moments longer?"

"I wouldn't want to waste your time, sir. After all, you have to catch me at whatever it is I'm up to." He wasn't worried. There was no way that he was going to get caught trying to open the Chamber. He was too good for that. Tom Riddle did it under the watchful eye of one Albus Dumbledore. A petty creature like Snape wouldn't hinder him in any way.

"There's time. There's always time." Snape chuckled. Scary thing, Snape chuckling. "And besides. What else do I have to do with my time? You students are, as you so put it, Dunderheads that can't keep my attention for more than five minutes. And considering that we've been speaking for about four minutes... I'd best be off. My reputation would be spoiled." He smirked before starting down the corridor.

"As if your hair hadn't tarnished it already…" Harry muttered underneath his breath.

He held his hand up in departing. "Like I haven't heard cracks about that in every other statement since I started teaching. Pick a new insult and I may re-add the five points I just took from Gryffindor for mocking a staff member." He said as he left Harry.

Turning, Harry stalked off in the opposite direction, lucky to have not gotten a detention for back talking.

--

"Hey guys." Harry greeted his friends, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione looked out from behind the textbook she was reading. "There you are, Harry. Ron and I were wondering where you ran off to."

"I got held up." He replied, loading up his plate with whichever foods were closest to him. "I had a run in with Snape, and that Creevy kid."

"Gross. What did the old bat want?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I honestly couldn't say. He seems to think that he never needs a reason to antagonize me. I don't know what his problems are. I don't think he's going to be to pleasant in Potions today."

"When is he ever pleasant?"

"Point taken."

"What do you think the professors are going to do for Halloween this year?" asked Hermione. "I hope it's something exciting."

"Or maybe another troll will pop up."

"Ron!" Hermione gave him a stern look.

"What?" He asked in between bites of mashed potatoes. "Oh. By the way, sorry about that."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Now that he thought of it, it was the first time he had apologized for the incident with the troll. Or at least that's what he thought Ron was apologizing for.

"I think I'm going to go." Harry said, standing up.

"You just got here." Said Ron.

"I know. I just don't feel all that great. I think I'll go to the Library or the Common Room until class starts." He pinched his forehead, feigning a headache.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Hermione offered.

"No." Harry sharply replied. "No, I'm fine. It's just a headache or something. I'll be fine."

--

Snape was watching him. He could feel it. He didn't dare look up in fear he would be caught. Not that he was doing anything wrong at the moment. He was just sitting at his desk, brewing his potion just like all the other students in the class. Nothing to see here, Snape. Thinking wasn't a crime, was it? He was thinking about the next day.

Halloween.

It was terrifying to think of, what he was going to do. What he was about to unleash on the school. He could turn back. It wasn't too late to change his mind. The Dark Lord would punish him, but it wasn't like the man hadn't tried killing him before. Or he could tell Dumbledore, and let the Headmaster take care of the problem that would soon arise. But even as he thought about it, he knew that it was impossible. Gryffindor he may be, but Harry wasn't stupid enough to incriminate himself.

It was alright though. He was just getting cold feet. He was only twelve, after all, even if he did have the confidence of Tom Riddle to back him up. He was just setting into motion events that had happened nearly 50 years prior. Events that had resulted in the death of a schoolgirl.

He almost dropped his spoon into his cauldron, earning a glare from Snape as the impact of that statement suddenly hit him. Was he willing to be the instigator in the death of one or more students? Though he wasn't doing it directly himself, he'd still be a murderer.

He tried to breathe. To calm himself down. It was necessary. It had to happen. At least, that's what he was trying to convince himself. Necessary for what? All it would do is cause a little fear and panic amongst the school population. And death. If it worked. He couldn't think of a reason why it wouldn't, and frankly it scared him.

He steadied his resolve and focused on his potion, adding in the wormwood one drop at a time. It was so hard to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, when everything else screamed otherwise.

The end of Potions couldn't have come soon enough for Harry. He had quickly bottled up his potion, set it on Snape's desk and disappeared out the classroom, ignoring the professor's piercing gaze and the calls from Ron and Hermione for him to wait up.

He needed to be alone, in a place where he could think without being interrupted.

--

It was here.

And through the excitement of his fellow classmates, Harry could feel nothing but anxiety.

For the past day, he had gone over his plan in his head, trying to convince himself not to back out.

And now that the day was here, Harry had been feeling worse and worse as the hours leading to the Halloween Feast drew closer. He likened it to waiting to go out on the field before his Quidditch games, though for this, he felt more nauseated than usual.

All he had to do was suck it up and wait until it was over and then he could go back to feeling better. Or so he hoped.

"Harry!"

His head snapped up upon hearing his name being called so forcefully. "Huh?"

"Are you okay?" Hermione's face was in front of him, peering at him with concern. "You've been staring at the wall for the past ten minutes. Class has been over for five."

"Oh." He stood up slowly, gathering his things together. "Let's go then."

"You don't look to well, Harry." Ron commented.

"I just haven't been feeling good all day. But I think I'll be fine. When does the Feast start, again?"

"In half an hour."

Harry's eyebrows raised. He hadn't realized that the day had passed so quickly. He wasn't sure which he would have preferred more, the day dragging on and on, or ending in an instant, like it had done for him. "I didn't realize it was that soon." He said. "I'm gonna go to the Common Room and lay down for a while."

"Alright."

"We'll wee you at the feast, Harry." Said Hermione.

"If I feel better, I'll come down." Harry replied, turning around to go back up the stairs. "Otherwise, just save me some sweets."

--

As he crawled out from beneath his covers, Harry really wished that he had faked being sick, but that was not so. As it came closer and closer to his plan being carried out, he just felt more sick, but he had already set his resolve at what he was about to do. At least he didn't have to use his parent's death as an excuse for getting out of the feast. He was more than sure that he would have felt even worse if he had done so. Though he had planned on feigning being depressed, things had worked out even better, even if it did mean his ill health.

He dressed for his 'mission', just picking out a regular set of robes in case he were to get caught lurking about the classroom. Wearing something like all black would be hard to explain, so he opted for a pair of jeans and a red t-shirt. Might as well look as inconspicuous as possible was his reasoning.

From the bottom of his trunk, he pulled out his invisibility cloak and threw it over himself.

It was easy to get out of the Common Room, considering there was no one to witness him leaving it in the first place. And, judging by her slurred "Who's there?", the Fat Lady was too drunk to truly pay attention.

He didn't say anything, and instead slipped past, heading directly for the portrait of the children. It didn't take long for him to reach the passage, and still hidden beneath his cloak, he whispered the password.

"Sneaking about, are you?" The lead girl asked with a laugh, staring directly at his invisible form.

Harry didn't say anything, and merely nodded. Even from the first time he had met her, he knew that the children's painting wasn't an ordinary one. His first clue was that she was downright creepy. And then there was the fact that she could see through his invisibility cloak. He wondered what kind of magic it took to achieve such a feat. Slytherin really was one sneaky bastard.

Like the previous times he had gained entrance to the Chamber, the painting rippled, and he stepped through, feeling like Alice, going down the rabbit hole.

--

"_Ramses. I have a small task of you_."

"_Yes Master. What is it that you ask of me?_"

"_We're going to go for a little trip around the castle. It's about time Hogwarts was reminded of the Chamber of Secrets._"

--

He had always wondered how he was going to navigate a sixty foot Basilisk around the school with out anyone noticing. Sure, the hallways were pretty much empty because of the feast, but surely the portraits that hung on nearly every wall of the school would spot Ramses.

But then, he had a solution for that, one provided by his memories. It was a simple matter of a simple ward scheme that acted like a notice-me-not charm. If Harry didn't want Ramses to be noticed, then Ramses wouldn't be noticed, and who ever was in the vicinity would suddenly remember that they belonged in another place. If he had used a notice-me-not or a disillusionment charm, it would be difficult to hide the snake's massive form, let alone cast it properly.

The ward was nice, because it was linked to both him and the snake, and allowed Harry to control the ward. How exactly it all worked, he didn't know, but the incantation had been simple, one that was easy enough for a Second Year to cast.

Moving Ramses around was easy as well. There were plenty of pipes for him to travel through, and Harry had just told the snake where to meet him, and it was easy enough for Ramses to meet him there.

Currently, they were walking on the lower levels of the school, with Harry trying to decide how to go about his plan. He had long since squashed down his feelings of guilt before he had set about the classroom. He knew that if he didn't, everything would be ruined, and he would be good for nothing. Harry Potter wasn't good for nothing. His relatives had tried convincing him of such all through out his life, and it had taken a lot for him to break free of his lies, but now that he had done so, he was determined to stick firmly beside them.

Which was why he was currently engaged in good for nothing activities…

--

To put it plain and simple, Argus Filch hated children. They were dirty, filthy little things that had ever showed him nothing but disrespect. They had long since taken for granted all the things he had done for them. Without him, the school wouldn't be clean, and they would be living in absolute filth.

One would question why Argus still worked at Hogwarts if he hated his job so much. And if anyone had ever dared ask him that, he would say only two words. Albus Dumbledore. As senile and eccentric the old man had seemed, he was still gracious enough to give him a job at the school.

His parents were Purebloods, and it came to them as a shock that their first born son turned out to be a squib. When they finally accepted the fact that their son wasn't going to carry on their line, the Filch's had enrolled him in a muggle school so that he may get some sort of education. It had worked for a while, but being raised in the Wizarding World had given him some interesting quirks, and he never truly fit in with his school mates, so he was withdrawn early.

Years later, and Argus had found himself almost penniless, and with no means to support himself, both in the muggle and magical world.

So, like that Half-Breed, Hagrid, Dumbledore had taken him in and suggested to the current Headmaster that he be taken on as Caretaker.

He didn't mind it, but he eventually grew to mistrust the young Witches and Wizards that attended Hogwarts.

Ignorant brats.

That night, he was in the staff room, cleaning signs of the day's activities away. Merlin, there were times that he thought that the Professors were just as dirty as the brats. At least they had the decency to thank him for his hard work every now and then.

He stood up from scrubbing the wall table clean, wincing as his back made a cracking noise, serving to remind him of just how old he was. He may be old, but at least he still got his job done right. There was nothing like a good old fashioned hand scrubbing. Magic may get things clean, but elbow grease always got in between the cracks and made sure that things were properly clean. It was perhaps why he was so anal about students tracking mud throughout the halls. He had taken so much time to get it clean, and they came through to muck it up with nary a thought. It was also why his detentions consisted of hand cleaning - so they could appreciate all the hard work that he put in.

Ungrateful children...

He took a final look around the room, before gathering up his supplies.

He opened the door and spoke to his cat, who was standing guard in the hallway, watching for rule breaking students.

"C'mon, our work here is done." He beckoned to Mrs. Norris, and started walking down the hallway. He paused when he didn't hear his pet following him and turned around. "Let's go, my pretty."

The cat didn't move, and kept watching the other end of the hallway, her back to the facing Argus.

"What's wrong, another rule breaker?" He walked over, wondering what was wrong with his cat. She hadn't moved or made a single noise, not even a single meow.

He stopped behind her, and called out her name, but still no answer. Bending down, he picked her up, and as soon as he touched her, he knew something was wrong. She was cold, cold as stone, and had remained in the same position as he picked her up.

He couldn't think of any other excuse but magic that would put her in such a state. Nothing but an idiot child would dare attack his cat, and he would get his revenge against the culprit. Determined to find out who did it, he continued further down the hallway. He knew the halls like the back of his hand. There was nothing but a right hand turn that ended in a dead end. If they were down there, he would catch them.

Too bad it would be the last time he tried to catch a student red-handed.

The minute he rounded the corner, he saw a fearsome sight. It was the Potter boy, and he was hissing unintelligibly to a snake. An extremely large one. How it had gotten into the castle, Argus didn't know, but one thing he knew for sure was that the boy would be in deep trouble indeed.

"Potter!"

The boy looked up sharply, obviously surprised that he had been found. Before caretaker or student could say or do anything, the snake looked up as well, the sound of the large head moving drawing Argus' attention.

For an instant, he looked into the large yellow eyes and that was the last thing Argus Filch knew.

---

_A/N: Yes, Filch is dead. And yes, it's a new chapter. I hope it's to your liking. Thanks to those who reviewed. Do me a favor and do it again? Thanks!  
_


	9. Aftermath

_Disclaimer: Sue me first, I'll sue you back._

_A/N: Sooo, I guess I'm back. Not I was ever gone. Life kicks ass and stuff. A word of warning, this chapter is shorter than the usual. I figured that where I left off would be a good stopping place. But here you go, enjoy and send me cookies!_

_Aftermath_

_Something terrible has happened in the school. I don't know what's happened, but some of the upper years were saying that someone was killed. I hope it's not true._

Ginny looked up when her stern head of house entered the common room. Her lips were pressed together tightly, only millimeters away from vanishing from the human eye. The room fell silent as the announcement was made, and as soon as McGongall left through the portrait hole, the room broke out into murmurs, speculating on the latest news.

Ginny turned back the diary, scribbling furiously.

_Professor McGongall made an announcement just now. Someone's murdered Filch, and the school is on lockdown. I know that nobody ever liked the bloke, but it's still scary to think about. What if they kill again? Ron was joking that he hoped that Malfoy would get killed, but I don't think it's funny._

_I hope they let us out the Tower eventually. I've never seen the common room so full. I think everybody's just as worried as I am, Tom._

**_It will be fine, Ginny._**

_How can you be so sure?_

**_I can't. But I do know that in the end, things eventually work out._**

_I guess._

"You're a prefect, Percy! You should know how to get in touch with a bloody professor!"

Ginny looked up from the diary and at the scene before her. Ron was red from yelling at their brother, while Hermione stood by, anxiously watching.

"Are you sure you checked in the bathroom?" Percy asked as though he were merely humoring a small child.

"I've checked everywhere, and he's not here."

"Well then, that's all you had to say, Ronald."

Ron made a frustrated grimace as Percy pulled out his wand. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, git." He muttered angrily.

Ignoring his younger brother, Percy tapped his wand against his Prefect's badge. "Professor McGongall, one of the students is missing."

The curt voice of the professor sounded back, as clearly as if she hadn't left the room in the first place. "Who is it?"

"Harry Potter." Percy replied. "Ronald said that he was in his dorm during the feast, but apparently, he's gone."

"Make sure everybody stays in the common room, and do another head count." McGongall ordered. "Filius and I will search for him."

"Yes ma'am."

With that, the connection was closed. Percy looked around, realizing that the room had gone quiet. His cheeks turned a light tinge of pink as he realized that the majority of the students had been listening in. "Everybody go back up to your dorms. It's past bed time."

The Gryffindors all went to their respective dorms, albeit very slowly. There were murmurs and whisperings about Harry Potter and his disappearance. Percy didn't like the gossip, but it wasn't something that he would be able to stop. He would bet his hat that instead of going to bed, most of the Gryffindors would be staying awake for the majority of the night, talking about Potter and his whereabouts. Personally, he couldn't blame him. Someone had been murdered, and now the Boy-Who-Lived was missing. It was unsettling.

With a sigh, he turned and took a seat on a now empty armchair. He would have gone up to his dorm, but he wasn't in the mood for the gossip. And he also needed to make sure that nobody would try sneaking out of the common room.

xXx

Minerva McGongall was having a very distressing evening, and she hadn't thought that it could get even more stressful until she had received a most alarming notice from one of her prefects. And that it was young Mr. Potter was even more alarming. The boy had a habit of getting himself into trouble, and she only hoped that he hadn't found trouble in the form of whoever had murdered their caretaker.

Having sent a message to the Headmaster alerting him of the newest developments, she went ahead to meet Filius Flitwick at a corridor.

"Good evening, Minerva." The diminutive professor greeted with a grim smile on his face.

Lips pursed, she returned the smile. "If only the evening had turned out so well, Filius." She commented. "Where do you suppose we start searching for Mr. Potter?" She had some ideas herself, but wanted to see what he said before she suggested anything.

"I think that the best course of action would be to utilize the portraits and see if they might have spotted him." He answered in his usual squeaky voice.

McGongall smiled, and this time it wasn't so grim. "My very thoughts, Filius."

She then walked a few steps looking at the portraits to find which one would be the most useful for the mission.

"Sir Henry." She stopped at a portrait of a young man sitting at a grand medieval desk with his feet upon the table.

"Ah, Minerva." He rose from the desk and swooped low with a gallant bow. "I was wondering when I would see your beautiful face again."

Filius thought he spied a faint blush appear on the normally composed professor's face.

"Yes, well I'm afraid that I'm going to have to cut this visit short." She ignored the young man's pout and continued. "One of our students is missing. Filius and I thought that it would be faster if we were to employ your help."

"Yes, very unfortunate circumstances. I shall talk with some of the others to see if they may have spotted your wayward child. Perhaps you might want to tell me what your student looks like?"

Minerva gave a small description of Harry and watched the young lord depart to complete his mission. She just hoped that the boy would be found before any harm came to him. There were just too many unknowns in this search.

xXx

Severus had better things to do with his time than searching for foolish Gryffindors that were stupid enough to lose their way. And he definitely had better things to do than to search for one named Harry Potter, the bane of his entire existence. But it was his job, and wether he liked it or not, he will still do what he was paid for.

The dungeons, he knew best, and it was there that he had first begun to look for the brat. But, thankfully he wasn't there. Hopefully, McGongall or Flitwick would find Potter before he did, as he had no wish to have any more interaction than was necessary. But alas, Fate had other things in in mind for Severus.

He had just passed a corridor that branched off onto the first floor when he heard a loud groan. He doubled back and turned down the corridor. There was a small figure laying on the floor. "What the…" He dashed over before slowing down, seeing who it was. "Potter, what in the devil are you doing down here?

Potter had the nerve to squint at him. "Eh?"

He arched an eyebrow. "You were sick, if I do recall. What are you doing out of your dorm at this time? Especially… after the events of tonight." He trailed off, not even bothering to hide his stern gaze. "Not to mention, everyone is looking for you."

"I-I was going down to the kitchens. I got hungry."

"And so... illness which is enough to knock wonder boy off his feet can't keep him from gorging himself?" He asked sardonically. "Makes perfect sense…"

The boy huffed. "I haven't eaten all day sir. And I thought that maybe, I'd feel good enough to get some dinner."

"Argus Filch, the Caretaker." Severus snapped off, not even bothering to fully listen to the Gryffindor's excuses. "What do you know about his status?"

"Um... cleaning the fourth floor?" He guessed., trying to seem as innocent as possible.

"Dead." He answered curtly. "He's dead, Mr. Potter."

Severus gazed darkly at him, not liking how quickly Potter had paled. He was up to something. He could feel it in his bones.

"Oh…"

"Yes. And Professor McGongall and Professor Flitwick have been looking for you for hours."

Potter smiled, having regained some of his color. "Well then it's good you found me sir."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Right." He grabbed the boy's arm and began to drag him towards the Great Hall, intent on meeting with the two other professors. "We meet up every three hours. It's ten till seven, Mr. Potter. I'll hand you off to McGongall where you'll escape punishment like the brat you are." He sneered.

The boy resisted, trying to wiggle his way out of the professor's tight grip on his arm. "Let go of me!" He shouted. "They can meet me in the hospital wing or something. In case you were too dense to notice, I passed out."

"Oh? So you're well enough to climb three flights of stairs but you can't stand to go down one and into the Great Hall? Seems like you're hiding something, Potter. And thirty points from Gryffindor for once again insulting a professor."

"I'm tired. My head hurts, and I'm about ready to throw up." Potter said, turning to give Severus a venomous glare. Like that would intimidate him in the slightest.

"Then come down the damn flight of stairs and sit. There will be water in the Great Hall. Get your body hydrated, if you're so concerned about your illness. They need to know you're…" He paused for a moment before continuing. "In one piece."

"Wouldn't it be easier if they just met me up there?"

"Go then. But if you aren't there, you'll be suspected more than you already are." He released the boy's arm roughly, and turned with a billow of his cloak to start down the stairs, ignoring the young Gryffindor going in the other direction. It was days like these that he hated his job. "Stupid snot nosed brats…"

"I think the boy is up to something."

Dumbledore's eyebrows crinkled ever so slightly. He didn't have to ask Severus which boy he was speaking of. "And what makes you think that my dear boy?" He asked, ignoring the slight twitch in the other man's eye every time he was referred to in such a manner.

"Potter is acting much different than last year." replied Snape.

"Oh?"

"Well, the little Gryffindor Prince has been avoiding his own little flock of sheep, not to mention belittling the rest of his house."

"My my Severus, I wasn't aware that you had taken such a keen interest in young Harry." The Headmaster noted with an amused twinkle.

"I am not. These are merely observations that any fool would be able to make." Snape sneered.

"Ah, well, I'm glad to see that you've kept up your intelligence."

Severus would have sworn that the old man was mocking him, but decided not to bring it up for the moment. "I only bring this up to you because you seem so intent on following the boy's every move."

"Children have a habit of changing throughout the years, Severus."

"This is no ordinary change, Headmaster. He was already a nuisance and has only become even more so throughout this year."

"If the welfare of Mr. Potter concerns you so much, then I shall take a deeper look into it."

Severus bristled. "I already told you, he's of no matter to me!"

"I understand that." Dumbledore merely smiled. "Don't forget, boys can be boys. After all, you were one yourself not too long ago."

xXx

The Dark Lord wasn't happy, no, not at all. What made it even more irritating was the fact he didn't have anyone to take out his frustrations on. The plans that he had made the year previous turned out to be all for naught. He had wasted valuable time and nothing good had come out of it. Well, except for maybe one thing.

He had made a follower out of his enemy. Ironic, that the one who had 'vanquished' him had joined him. Frankly, he had been surprised. First, that the boy had even considered his offer, and second, that it was accepted. It hadn't been in his plans, but it didn't mean that he couldn't adapt. He wasn't stupid. He would make the most out of the boy while he could. Dumbledore's little pet wasn't as innocent as he seemed.

The child would make a prime spy, and the old fool wouldn't think the less. The old adage rang true - keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He would have to remind young Potter to remain on Dumbledore's good graces until it was time for him to join his true master.

He almost sighed, but refrained from such a trivial habit. Now was not the time to be dwelling on those thoughts. He had more important tasks to carry out. Like finding another body to inhabit, for instance. Being such a powerful spirit as he was gave the unfortunate consequence of having to move from body to body after inhabiting it for too short of a time. They had a nasty habit of dying too quickly. It was disgusting that he had to resort for using muggles just to get around, but it was what he had to do for the time being.

It would only be a matter of time before he found himself a willing wizard that would be more than capable of hosting his spirit. There were still many around the world that would be honored to be able to give their life to the great Lord Voldemort.

He had killed a man.

An annoying old man with a stupid cat that everyone hated. Not one person in the school that he could think of would miss him; maybe even some would privately cheer. But he still had killed him all the same.

Sad thing was, he didn't know what he was supposed to think about that. The initial shock had been, well, shocking. But now that the time had gone by, he was still assessing his thought process. The cat was petrified and her owner dead. Did anyone even care? A bitter old man whose life didn't really seem to be amounting to much, despised by just about everyone that he passed in the hallways. A squib, if the rumors were true.

He supposed that however he felt about it all, he had already experienced it. Considering he had passed out while fleeing the scene of the crime. Honestly, it was more the after effects of having just murdered the man rather than having experienced true remorse. He wasn't sad at all. Or maybe he had been feeling remorseful and hadn't realized it. Well, whatever he was feeling, it wasn't there any longer.

He had done with the Dark Lord had commanded. He had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Now, he just had to let Ramses run around a bit more, get people spooked up. But that didn't mean that he actually had to kill again, did it? Once was enough, and it would have people on their toes for the next few weeks, then his job should be done. It just didn't set well with him that he had to run around killing people just to prove that he was worth something. If the Dursleys had tried that method, probably all of England would be dead, and he still wouldn't be worth half a knut to them.

xXx

A week after the death, Albus sighed as he watched the pallbearers carry away the casket that held the body of Argus Filch. Though it was a private ceremony for close friends and family of the caretaker, he had felt that it was his duty as Argus' employer to pay his respects and give his condolences to the family.

He was loathe to admit it, but Albus was mildly surprised by the amount of people that had shown up to the funeral. One wouldn't think that a bitter man like Filch would have that many people there to mourn his loss. But they were there, and it was pleasant to see that the man hadn't appeared to be alone.

As the funeral progressed, he pondered on the Aurors finding for the cause of death. Though there was no way to confirm the use of the Unforgivable, it had been ruled that it was the Killing Curse that was used in his murder. Besides the frozen look of surprise on Filch's face when his body was found, there was nothing else to give a clue as to what killed him. Thus, the Killing Curse.

But Albus had his own suspicions. He had his own private wards in place that would detect the use of Dark Magic, which would have alerted him to the use of the curse, but no such alarm had taken place. It was worrisome, and prompted him to at least investigate other means of killing a man.

Like the old saying, no matter how gruesome - there's more than one way to skin a cat. He just had to find those ways.


	10. Dobby

_Disclaimer: Go away. I'm sleeping._

_**Dobby**_

Quidditch was in his opinion, the best sport in the world. There was nothing more exhilarating than flying quickly through the air, the wind making his already messy hair even messier. His heart leapt to his each time he completed a complicated spiral or dove suddenly to the ground. This had to be, he thought, the most exciting game he'd ever played since coming to Hogwarts.

Too bad he was too busy trying not to die to truly be excited.

Harry snuck a glance behind him. The bludger was still on his tail, not once looking like it wanted to stop trying to bash his head in. Fred and George had already tried batting the bludger away, but it was to no avail. He had managed to avoid getting hit by the leather ball for almost five minutes now, but he knew that it would be a matter of time before he slipped up and got himself maimed or worse, killed.

He was making another crazy dive towards the ground when he spotted a glint of gold flashing by the stands. It was the snitch. He could at least end the game - maybe then someone could get rid of the rouge bludger chasing him down.

He wondered if Malfoy had seen the snitch as well. The Slytherin seeker had long since abandoned him, probably wanting to make sure he didn't get hit as well. And now, Harry had the advantage. He put on an extra burst of speed in pursuit.

"And despite the bludger, it looks like Potter's found the snitch!" Lee Jordan's voice yelled out, followed by the roar of the Gryffindor supporters, which was pretty much three quarters of the school.

The snitch went low, and so did Harry. His toes skimmed the grass as everything rushed pass him in a blur.

The snitch turned, arcing across the field and Harry angled after it, hoping to cut the thing off. He would've made it if he didn't have to barrel roll to avoid hitting Malfoy. He was so focused on the snitch, that frankly, he had forgotten the other seeker.

He righted himself and chanced a glance behind him. One of the twins, he couldn't tell which one, had taken the job of batting the bludger away, but it looked like it was succeeding at getting closer.

He was neck and neck with Malfoy, and the snitch had fallen almost within arms reach. Draco had a newer, slightly faster broom, but Harry had more skill and over a year of Wood's practices at his side. Deciding that now was not the time to play nice, he closed the few feet that separated him and Malfoy, and rammed his rival. The Slytherin faltered, and Harry refocused his attention on the snitch. It dove again, and he followed its path, grateful that gravity was doing some of the work as well.

He didn't look back, but he could hear Malfoy behind him. It sounded like he was struggling with the speed of his broom.

Just another foot or two, that was all he needed. And the ground was coming up rather quickly. He inched forward on his broom. His hand reached out, almost tickling the snitch. Faster and faster, the ground was coming for him. Further and further his fingers reached. He could almost close his hand around it.

Four things happened at once.

"Harry! Watch out!" Oddly enough, it was Draco who yelled that.

His hand closed over the snitch, its small wings beating rapidly.

There was a loud crack! as the once forgotten bludger connected with his outstretched arm.

And finally, a dawning horror as the ground finally met up with him and everything went black.

xXx

He was on a bed, that much Harry could tell. Where he was, he had yet to figure out. And that was an issue easily enough solved by the simple act of opening up his eyes.

Ah, the Hospital Wing. He shouldn't have been surprised. The place was like his second home. He must've been out for a long time, considering Madame Pomfery wasn't up to her usual hustle and bustle, and it just felt like it was late.

He sat still for a moment or two in an attempt to figure out just exactly how his body felt. The aftertaste of potions was the first thing in his mouth that he noticed. If he thought the potions tasted bad, then the lingering taste didn't even have a word to describe how bad it tasted. It was just plain gross. To be frank, if he were a dog, he would've licked his butt just to get rid of the taste.

Besides the bad taste in his mouth, his entire body ached. He imagined it was from crashing into the ground. Above the ache of his entire body, his right arm hurt the most. He wondered what happened to the bludger after he hit the ground. It seemed like it hadn't gotten to him again, since he seemed to be mostly all in once piece.

Gingerly and with a wince, he sat up. He was oddly awake and he figured that it had something to do with the combination of potions and sleeping what he thought was most of the day away.

It took him a minute to realize that he wasn't the only one on his bed. It was a house elf. He hadn't ever encountered one since his entry into the magical world, but Tom Riddle had. The species was just as ugly now as they were fifty years ago.

"I'm sorry Mister Harry Potter sir!" The pitiful looking thing was standing on the edge of the bed, cringing.

"Who are you?"

The elf shrunk further into itself, as if it couldn't believe that he was actually talking with Harry.

"Dobby, sir."

"Right." Harry nodded. "And what are you doing here Dobby?"

"I wanted to see what Dobby's bludger did to Mister Harry Potter sir!"

Harry blinked. "Dobby's bludger? That was your bludger?"

The house elf's head bobbed slowly up and down. "Dobby thought that if he sent his bludger after you, you wouldn't want to stay at Hogwarts!"

"What? That makes no sense at all. Why should I leave?"

"Because… there are bad things happening. Bad things that Harry Potter should be staying away from."

The Chamber of Secrets. That was the only 'bad' thing that Harry think of happening at the school. "Just because Filch got killed, you think I should skip out?"

"Not just because of Mister Filchy. There are more bad things that are going to happen to the school."

"Does this have anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked, figuring he'd just get it out in the air.

"Shhhh!" Dobby crept forward, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "Mister Harry Potter sir isn't supposed to know about that!"

"But I do. And I don't get why you want me to leave."

"Because I don't want you to get harmed by the great monster!"

"Look." Harry sighed, shifting in the bed. "I already know about it. In fact, I'm trying to help out with it, figure out what's going on." It was somewhat the truth. He was helping out, but not exactly for the right team.

Dobby's ears curled around his face in a protective manner. "But you're not supposed to be doing that! You must remain safe!"

"I will, Dobby, I will."

"Then you must not stay at Hogwarts."

"I have to. I told you I have to fix it." Harry insisted, tempted to wring his hands around the little creature's neck. "Promise not to try to do anything like the bludger or else you will kill me, and there will no longer be any Mister Harry Potter to save. Got it?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes sir."

"Try talking with me first the next time something like this happens again. Alright?"

Another nod.

"Promise me." Harry said firmly.

"Yes Mister Harry Potter sir."

And with that, the house elf disappeared with a pop.

Before he had a chance to marvel at the usefulness of house elf magic, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened.

xXx

"Albus, what happened to him?"

All Harry could see was the silhouetted forms of Professor McGongall and the Headmaster while Madame Pomfrey tutted about the Infirmary.

"It appears that he has been petrified." Dumbledore sighed, the tiredness heavy in his voice.

"But to poor Mr. Creevy. Surely you don't believe the message?" She straightened up from the bed, moving out the way of Madame Pomfery.

"I don't know what to think, Minerva." He silently shook his head. "But I do believe that this incident is related to the death of our caretaker.

"What makes you think that?"

"I did not tell you before but, Mrs. Norris was petrified the same night her owner was killed."

Harry shifted in the bed so that he could hear the conversation more easily.

Again, Dumbledore sighed. "I thought it best that it be kept quiet until his killer could be found."

"And so you think that the same person that killed Argus and petrified his cat did the same to Colin? But why isn't he dead?"

"I don't know, but I think that he may have gotten a picture of his attacker if we're lucky." Harry cracked open his eyes a bit and caught site of the Headmaster pulling an object from the hands of the stiff form. There was a winding sound and then a click as something popped open. "Alas, it appears that his camera was destroyed as well."

"You know the Ministry will get involved." The worry was evident in her voice.

"Yes, I will handle it as best as I can."

They moved away, their conversation in a low murmur that was to quiet for Harry to hear. But he had heard enough. Someone was attacking the students. The professors thought it was connected with Filch and it seemed like they didn't know who committed the crimes.

But one thing he did know was that he had no part of the second attack.

He had a little investigation to do of his own to figure out who was trying to outdo him.

Harry turned around and closed his eyes, worry on his mind.

xXx

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED._

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

"Can you believe he actually said 'You'll be next, mudbloods'?" Ron cracked his knuckles, glaring at a certain blond over at the Slytherin table.

Harry shook his head. "No, I can't. What do you think it means?"

"I don't know, but I think we should ask one of the professors." Hermione said, joining them at the table.

The message on the wall and the accompanying petrifaction of Colin Creevy was the lips of almost every student in Hogwarts. Speculation and wild theories were running like wildfire. Harry knew exactly what was going on, and the only thing on his mind was finding out who else was controlling the Basilisk.

The week since his stay in the hospital wing, he hadn't been able to get down to the Chamber of Secrets and speak with Ramses to find out who else had been accessing the chamber. Despite the increased presence of patrols in the hallways, Harry thought it worth it to take the risk of going down there within the next couple of nights. Until then, he could do nothing but brood about it.

"But even if it is true Hermione, they're not going to tell us anything that would cause even more panic." Harry pointed out.

"Still, it never hurts to ask."

"Well, I was going to go the library to see if I could look it up on my own first. And then compare what information I found with whatever the teacher tells us. That way, I'll know if we've heard anything new or not." she explained.

"Who were you planning on asking?" asked Ron.

"Professor Binns, if he's willing to talk about it, and if not, Professor McGongall."

"Sounds like you'd be pushing your luck no matter who you talked with."

"We'll see. I'm going to the library today, and I'll ask tomorrow. So we'll how my luck goes then. Until then, lets go to class."

xXx

Professor Binns, it turned out, that once prodded, the ghost was more than willing to talk about the speculation behind the Chamber of Secrets - at least so he could go back to teaching about the goblin wars during the dark ages.

Harry already knew the story. Both what was said also what was left out. Tom Riddle had used a then thirteen year old Hagrid and his pet as a scapegoat. Mainly because the threat of having the school shut down on account of the murder of a student was hanging in the air.

The thought of Hogwarts closing sent chills down Harry's back. The castle felt like his first true home, and the thought of losing it was simply horrifying. Filch was already dead, and a student petrified. What McGongall had said while he was in the hospital wing was true - the ministry would soon get involved if more attacks happened. He was just grateful that he wasn't in the muggle world any longer. Just the first death would have enough cause for an investigation. But this wasn't the muggle world, and the ministry probably wouldn't care about the death of a rumored squib. If it were a pureblood that had lost their life, it would've been another matter altogether. Disgusting really, but in this case, their nonchalance was actually helping, not hindering Harry.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood outside of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Things were already getting complicated for him and it was only the beginning.

"Open." He hissed the password to the final door and stepped through once the door silently swung open. Once he was through, it would close on its own with a gentle click.

Despite his small steps, they still echoed loudly around the cavernous room. He didn't look around. There was no need to. He knew what was already there and he didn't think that the other person would be there either. Somehow, he knew that he would just be able to tell.

It didn't take him long to approach the statue and call the Basilisk from within. This was the third time that he had done so and it still made him shiver with suppressed excitement. There was just something about being able to be the master of such a terrible monster that gave him a thrill.

He watched as the massive form of the king of snakes fell to the ground with a loud thump, sounding wet against the slickness of the floor.

The boy looked up into the reptile's eyes, unafraid. It had surprised Harry when he had first discovered that the basilisk's killing gaze only worked on command. Otherwise, it would have to spend most of its life with eyes shut in fear of accidentally petrifying itself. Having little logic, not very many wizards took that into account. It was nice that he didn't have to put himself at a disadvantage by having his eyes closed every time he spoke with Ramses. He felt that there was just something wrong about that.

_"Ramses."_ Harry's voice trailed off in a low hiss, a tinge of irritation tinging it.

The basilisk coiled itself onto the floor, his tongue lazily flicking out. _"Yes Master?"_

_"There has been another human down here. Who was it?"_

_"I cannot tell."_

_"And why is that?"_ Harry's temper threatened to flare up.

_"Something was done to me, and it is preventing me from speaking."_

_"When was this?"_

_"I do not exactly know. But it was before I went hunting last."_

_"When I took you out?"_

_"No. There was a boy, and a flash. I was let out into the forest to hunt, and then I came back. I have been asleep until now."_

Harry sighed. Not exactly what he had expected. At all. And now, it was time for him to figure out how to solve the problem. _"I take it you don't know who it was that bewitched you?"_

The snake lifted its head and shook it no.

He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, resting his head on a hand to think. It could literally be anybody, and there was no way that he could be certain that it was someone in the school. There were many ways in and out, and if someone knew about them, they could easily gain access into the castle.

So that meant tat he would have to do surveillance of his own. Stake the place out or however else he could find the impostor. So with that settled, the thing for him to would to find out ways to do it. It wasn't like he would be able to set up a camera to watch the entrance. Hogwarts wasn't exactly a electronics friendly zone. He should know. Dean Thomas had tried bringing a walkman to show off to some of the less muggle aware students, but the boy had claimed that as soon as he had brought it in, the thing had just sizzled and fried.

Charles, the snake that opened the bathroom pipes might would be a help, but snakes weren't always the smartest of people, and he didn't want to run the risk of someone finding him engaged in a lengthy conversation with it in Parseltongue. But still, he needed to be careful not to get arrogant and dismiss the small carving. He needed all the help he could get.

But for now, it appeared that Harry would have to do all the dirty work himself, and hope to Merlin that he would have good timing when it came to catching the culprit. He wanted to find them soon. If it took too long, it would mean too many sleepless nights spent watching, and it would also mean too many questions if he was caught out of bed by either his teachers or his friends.

He wanted to bang his head against a wall or something. It was just his luck that things could go simply. That there had to be something around to just complicated things to no end. He thought about writing the dark lord, to explain that there was someone else that knew about the chamber as well. But then it would prove that he wasn't up to the task of keeping things under wraps. It was probably pride speaking, not reason, but the less contact he had for now, the better.

With that settled, he dismissed Ramses and headed out the chamber and up the stairs that appeared at his beckoning.

The pipes quickly closed behind him, and he was half way to the bathroom door when he caught a glimpse of someone in an open stall. He sped up, hoping to get out, considering he was a boy about to get caught inside of a girl's loo, but it seemed that he was too slow. His foot splashed in a puddle, and he suddenly found him face to face with a glowing transparent figure.

"What are you doing here?"

Surprised, Harry took a step backwards. He didn't know that there was a ghost haunting the bathroom, but then again, it would explain why it was pretty much empty every time he went in there. "I um… I lost my way. I thought this was the boy's loo." He quickly lied.

"Well this isn't. You shouldn't be in here you know."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I'm leaving."

"Are you mocking me?" she inched closer, glaring into his face.

"No. That's the truth. Who are you anyway?" If she was going to be rude, so could he.

"My name's Myrtle. But I'm sure you've heard about poor weeping, Moaning Myrtle." Fat ghost tears leaked from her eyes and fell down her face.

Harry shook his head. "Actually, I haven't. This is the first that I've heard about you."

"Oh." she sniffed, pushing her glasses up her face. "Well then." It seemed that she didn't know what else to say. "What's your name?"

"Harry, Harry Potter."

Her eyes looked up, and internally, Harry groaned. It seemed like even dead girls had heard of him, and it didn't make him feel any better.

"_Oooh._ I've head some of the other girls talking about you. Apparently you're famous for something or another. Is that true, or were they just lying like they always do?"

He was tempted to say that he was lying just so that there would be one person that didn't seem to fawn over him, but the girl seemed too sensitive to do that to. "Yeah, I'm famous. For something or another." He added a small smile.

"I've always wanted to meet you. You're scrawnier looking than they said, I hope you know that."

"Thanks." snorted Harry.

There was an awkward pause as either one of them figured what to say next.

Harry didn't know what to say, and Myrtle seemed like she wasn't used to actual conversation with live, breathing people.

"How'd you come to haunt this place anyway?"

"I died here."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I was driven in here by Olive Hornby and then I died twenty minutes later. It was before you were born, I doubt there was a thing you you would've been able to do." It was like she was discussing quidditch, and not her own death. Apparently if someone had been a ghost long enough, there came a point where they just didn't care about it any more.

He decided then that he wasn't ever going to end up turning into a ghost after he died. If and when he died, he and his spirit would be gone for good.

"Hey, I gotta go now. But it was nice talking with you."

"It was a pleasure meeting you too, Harry." Myrtle giggled. "Maybe you can come for another visit sometime."

"Yeah, sure." He replied as he finally got out of the bathroom.

So that was Myrtle Eddington. Tom Riddle had murdered the girl. He had few memories of her while she was alive. Tom hadn't encountered her before she had died, but there were still memories of her from second hand knowledge or from seeing her from a distance. She seemed the same dead as she was alive. She was a social outcast and no one that she could truly call friend. It seemed to Harry that her death saved her much misery and pain that would've only been added onto as she grew older. Except that it appeared that she hadn't truly escaped from it, seeing as she was now currently haunting the girl's bathroom. A sad existence, really.

It wasn't Harry's problem though. There were many other things for him to worry about. Even things that now seemed to be mundane, like homework and quidditch.

xXx

"Wait, I don't think I heard you guys right. What is it that you're trying to do?" Harry looked between Hermione and Ron.

"Hermione figured that the best way to find out who was opening the Chamber of Secrets was to use Polyjuice potion."

"Okay…" He leaned back in his chair. "Why are you even doing this? Professor Dumbledore is probably looking into it." And frankly, he thought that it was a stupid idea. Dangerous too, if two first years were thinking about brewing it. He wanted nothing to do with it, though he had a feeling that he would end up getting dragged into the mess along with them. "I take it you have an idea of who's doing it, or else you wouldn't even ben trying it in the first place."

Ron and Hermione shared a glance before Ron spoke. "We think it's Malfoy."

"Why him?"

"Who else would be wanting to get of people in the school? He's the biggest git around, and everyone knows that his parents are the wrong sort of people. My dad says that the only reason he didn't go to Azkaban when You-Know-Who died was because he said that he was bewitched. And he's been acting funny too." Ron explained.

"Why do you say that? He hasn't done anything this year."

"Exactly! He's always pestering us, or trying to show off his goons. But we haven't heard anything from him at all. Obviously it means that he's planning on doing something."

"No he isn't."

Ron's brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"At he beginning of the school year, Malfoy sent me a letter," he began. "Apparently his dad thinks that we should all of a sudden become best buds."

"Malfoy's not stupid, he should know it's not going to happen." Hermione interrupted.

"He figured that out too. So he just basically asked for a truce. He won't bother me, and I won't bother him. I guess something's better than nothing. Works for me, I don't really care." he shrugged.

"He sent you a letter? Why didn't you say anything about it before?"

"Because Ron, I didn't think it really mattered. If he had started being a prat again, then yeah, I might've said something. But he's left us alone, and I'm happy with that."

"Still, it doesn't sit right with me. How do you know he's not just keeping you out the way so that he can go around attacking students? For all we know, his grandfather could've been the Heir of Slytherin fifty years ago, and now Malfoy knows how to open the chamber."

It took a good portion of Harry's willpower not to roll his eyes at how much Ron was jumping to conclusions. He supposed that if no one knew any better, they might start thinking the same thing. But Harry did, and frankly, it sounded stupid to him. He turned to Hermione. "Do you believe any of what he's saying?"

"Not exactly. If anything, I think it's an older student. They would have the knowledge to petrify Colin. But that doesn't mean that we can't still find out what Malfoy knows. Maybe someone slipped up and said something about it. You know how he likes to brag, Harry."

"I don't like it. But I might as well help. At least, if we get caught, all three of us will be in trouble."

xXx

_A/N: Hey. It's nanowrimo. I need a beta. Who wants to be my beta? Have fun. Bye._


	11. Stakeout

_Disclaimer: H.P. is J.K.R.'s, not L.V.'s or N.H.'s._

_**Stakeout**_

Peacock. Purple preening peacock. Perhaps that was the best way to describe Gildeory Lockhart. He certainly looked like one right now. Deep purple robes, too shiny white teeth, and hair slicked back with so much gel, even Draco Malfoy would be ashamed of the man. And yet he was here at Hogwarts teaching.

Harry wondered how the man even got the post teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes, there was a curse on the job, but surely it couldn't be that bad to where Dumbledore had chosen this man as a last resort. He'd rather kill himself than have him teaching at Hogwarts.

But Harry was just a student, and there wasn't much he could say about that matter. Defense was hell, and he wondered if he was actually learning anything this year. The entire class seemed to be one big commercial for Gildeory Lockhart and the 'heroic' things he'd done while traveling the world, not anything useful.

Therefore, when Lockhart cleared his throat and made an announcement, he was surprised that it was actually anything noteworthy.

"Yes, that's right. I spoke with Headmaster Dumbledore, and he has given me permission to start a dueling club for all you young students. The first meeting will be held in the Great Hall at seven o'clock sharp tomorrow evening! If you want personal instruction from me and a surprise guest, then I suggest you come." He struck a pose, and Harry wondered if the professor had even realized what he was doing. "And who knows, you might even get to see me duel."

And so with that, there was new buzz about, a topic that was beginning to overcome the talk of Colin Creevy and the message on the wall.

"I can't wait until tomorrow. It's brilliant that he's already here teaching us. I'm sure Lockhart knows a bunch of useful spells and hexes he can teach us. Maybe even some he created himself." Harry rolled his eyes as Lavender Brown and Parvarti Patil passed them in the hallways. It was more than likely to be a load of self righteous crap, just like all his classes. But he'd go anyway, at the very least to see how much of a fool Lockhart looked while in front of the rest of the school.

"Are you guys planning on going?"

Hermione nodded while Ron just shrugged his shoulders.

"It's going to be interesting. I know that much."

xXx

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood amidst the crowd of students, watching Lockhart and his lovely assistant, the sour looking Professor Snape. They were demonstrating the Expelliarmus charm, and it appeared that Snape was winning the impromptu duel. It was probably the first time that either Ron or Harry had ever cheered for the Potions Master, but it was an occasion that called for the lesser of two evils.

So it was with triumphant smirk that he watched Lockhart get blasted across the room, to the cheers of some of the boys in the room.

Disheveled, the blond got off his feet, brushing off his robes and fixing his once perfect hair. "Good show, Professor Snape. I could've had you there, but I decided it would be best to show a person what it's like to be on the receiving end of that hex.

Now, as I said before, you all had a chance to learn and practice the Expelliarmus charm in class. We will now use that in a dueling environment. Any volunteers?"

Before any hands could go up, Snape interrupted. "Allow me to choose." It didn't take him long to pick. "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. I think you two would do very well." He beckoned to them with a sharp gesture.

"Go knock him out, Harry." Ron said with a pat on his back.

Pulling his wand out, Harry stepped onto the raised dueling stage, and took his place on the stage.

"You will only use the Expelliarmus charm." Lockhart explained as Malfoy took his place as well. "The winner will receive 20 points for their respective houses. Now, assume the dueling position."

Both students' wands rose in the air, ready to strike. "Begin!"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Two voices yelled in near unison. Harry's spell was the first to be released, his wand work slightly faster.

He didn't have to move to dodge his opponent's spell, as its aim was off, going instead off in a wide arc. Harry's however, hit home.

The Slytherin bounced back, hitting the floor hard, yet still managing to hold onto his wand. Snape picked him off the floor, shoving him back towards Harry.

"Good job boys!" Lockhart made to step back onto the platform again, but was interrupted by Draco casting another spell.

"_Serpensorstia!_"

A large snake plopped onto the ground, hissing wildly in anger.

_"What? Where am I? Who did this to me?"_ There were shrieks as it slithered to the edge of the platform, close to the watching students.

"No worries, I'll get rid of it." Lockhart stepped forward, sending a yellow hex its way. Instead of getting rid of the snake, it just hissed and spit.

_"Fool! I'll teach you not to hurt you. Stay there, so that I can eat you."_ It moved closer to Lockhart, and seeming to change its mind, drew closer to a small group of Hufflepuffs.

Harry stepped forward, mouth parted to speak. He wanted to tell the snake that it was safe, and that no one would harm it if it didn't. But then he remembered where he was, and that people probably wouldn't take it too kindly if he all of a sudden started speaking Parseltongue. So he shut his mouth and watched as Snape silently vanished it.

"I think that will be all. Thank you Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter." Lockhart said, gaining control of the situation once again. "Now that we have seen that, intriguing demonstration, split up into pairs and practice between yourselves. And remember, only Expelliarmus, thank you." As the last bit was said, he sent a glare by way of Malfoy.

Harry hopped off the platform to rejoin his friends. "Well that was fun." He commented, not looking like he had fun at all. What could he expect? Malfoy was a Slytherin and was probably used to using backhanded ways to make a fair fight unfair.

The remainder of the club meeting continued on in relative peace. Neville Longbottom had managed to give his partner the head of a Llama, but incidents like that were to be expected when it came to dealing with the boy.

xXx

Ginny was scared. There was blood on her hands, and she didn't know where it came from. All she knew was that she needed to get rid of the evidence of whatever crime she had committed. She looked in the mirror, and noticed that there were small white things in her hair. Reaching her hand up, she plucked one out and examined it. Squinting, she realized that it was a feather. They were all over her hair in little white patches.

As she plucked them out, she wondered where they could come from and if the blood came from the same source as well. It frightened her that she couldn't remember what had happened and what had caused her to be covered in blood and feathers. She would've thought that it was one of Fred and George's pranks if it weren't for the fact that she had 'woken up' in strange places before with no memory at all. She was too afraid to go to anyone in fear that she was imagining things. After all, it was her first year of school, and she still had to adjust to things. Perhaps it was just stress and she would get over it soon enough.

Finishing up in the bathroom, she exited and locked herself up in her four poster, pulling out her diary from underneath her pillow. Maybe Tom would know what was going on. He was always smart and sensible, and seemed to ease her fears whenever they cropped up.

_Hi Tom._ She wrote as per her usual greeting.

_**Hello Ginny. Are you doing well?**_ It was his normal response.

_I blacked out again today. But this time I had stuff all over me. Blood and feathers. What do you think it means?_

**_Maybe you fell asleep and started sleepwalking again? This isn't the first time this has happened, remember?_**

_I know, but I think I would've remembered falling asleep. And I don't know where I would've gotten the blood and feathers._

**_I can't think of any answer to give you._**

_I know. I'm sorry to have bothered you with this. I'm just, scared, I guess._

**_It's okay Ginny, you're young. I'm sure there are things that you don't understand._**

_Yeah, I guess. Thank you Tom, you're always so understanding._

**_No, thank you Ginny. It's nice to hear about what you're up to at Hogwarts. My creator made me over fifty years ago, so I guess you could say that I'm a little outdated._**

_I wish you would tell me more about your time. It seems so much more interesting that what I do all the time._

**_Maybe after you tell me about your day. Does that sound agreeable?_**

_Yeah, that works. Besides the thing with the blood and feathers, I explored the castle with my friend, Luna. She's the one that's always going on about the Nargles and such. We found some new passage ways, and I got a chance to get to know Luna more. She doesn't have too many friends around the school. Most of the other Ravenclaws avoid her because they think she's so weird. I like her well enough, considering we grew up in the same village…._

They wrote to each other for almost another hour, Ginny providing information about her activities, and little tidbits about the other students she would run into. She thought it was rather boring, but was more than willing to have someone to talk with that actually understood her. Her brothers hardly ever cared about what their first year sister had problems with, and her parents were always too far detached to fully understand. She had her friends yes, but they just weren't as mature as Tom was. He always knew the right things to say, and she sometimes wished that he were real so that she could meet him. The way he talked was so old fashioned, and he sounded like he was powerful and handsome. At least, he seemed to act that way.

The worry about her blackouts was lessened by the time she put the diary away and gave her the needed comfort that allowed her to more easily fall asleep.

xXx

_Harry,_

_How are things holding up at Hogwarts? From what I've heard, our little pet project seems to be working according to plan. I only have a small token of advice to give you. Be careful. Move to fast, and people are more than likely to notice you more. I have faith in you Harry. The night we met, you proved to be a young man that is strong in spirit. You show much potential. I have to admit, your plight reminds me slightly of myself. I only hope that I may be able to guide you away from making some of the same mistakes I made when I was younger. Until next time, Harry._

As usual, the letter ended with no name, but he was used to the letters by now. It had actually come as a surprise. So wrapped up he was in his activities, he hadn't noticed the length of time that had passed since the previous letter. And he wasn't exactly looking forward to it. A letter meant that he would write back with progress. Perhaps a simple note would do. _I'm alright. Thanks for asking. Bye!_

That probably wouldn't be the exact wording, but something along those lines would suffice. And if he did happen to get curious, it wasn't like the Dark Lord would be able to waltz into Hogwarts and fix the problem.

Harry liked that he was trusted to complete an important mission. Asking for help would only be seen a sign of weakness. And besides, things hadn't seemed like it had deteriorated that badly anyway. Yes, there was a slight problem of someone else running around the castle with his Basilisk in tow, announcing that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, but he was coming up with plans to handle it.

Filch was dead, and even if he had only accidentally done the deed, he had still managed to accomplish something. The next step would be to find out who next to attack. The only reason why he hadn't done any real thinking yet was because he didn't that he would even be able to handle the fact that he would be plotting the death of another person. He was twelve, he shouldn't be plotting murder.

A memory flashed in his mind, one he knew for sure wasn't his. It was one of a sixteen year old Tom Riddle standing over three bodies, triumph evident in the emotion. Harry then knew that they had been murdered. Muggles that had been taken by surprise and killed by the most hateful of magic.

His father and grandparents, that's who Tom Riddle had killed at the young age of sixteen,. Harry didn't know what bringing up that memory was supposed to do to him. Maybe tell him that he wasn't the only one with enough gut to go around killing people? He didn't know. He didn't want to kill. It was wrong, of course. But then he wanted to prove that he was more than capable. He had had those musing in his head plenty of times since the summer that he was told that he was supposed to play the role of Heir of Slytherin. But still, he hadn't been able to figure out what to do with what he assumed was his conscious. It was screaming 'no', telling him that he should tell someone what he had been up to before it got out of hand.

He couldn't tell anyone though. It would mean that he would have to admit that he was in contact with Lord Voldemort, and he would also have to confess to killing Argus Filch. And then he would go to Azkaban and rot in there for the rest of his life. No, he was dug in too deep and he would follow it through to the bitter end if he had to.

Sighing, Harry placed the letter deep inside his trunk, and pulled out quill and parchment so that he could pen a quick reply.

It was then that he realized that he hadn't actually written the Dark Lord before. So far, it had been one way correspondence and that he probably wasn't expected to write back to this letter either. But he felt that he should acknowledge that he was taking the given advice to heart.

_Thank you for the advice, it is much appreciated. Right now, I'm considering the next path to choose, since there are many options for me to take into account. I have run into some minor roadblocks, but they shouldn't be too much of a problem. I should have it fixed in no time. I apologize for the short letter, and for not replying to your other letters before. I just assumed that it was a one way thing. Since you found out about the other incident, I guess that you'll learn of the next one as well._

_Hoping you succeed in your goals,_

_H.P._

The letter finished, Harry set it aside to mail later and made his way down to the Common Room to join Ron and Hermione at a table.

"So," He began after looking around to make sure that there wasn't anyone nearby that appeared interested in their conversation. "How's the potion coming along, Hermione?"

"It's almost halfway done now. It _should_ be ready in time for Christmas break, but I'm pretty sure that we'll be cutting it close by a good day or two."

"Good job, Hermione." Harry complimented. He hadn't taken part in much of the actual brewing of the potion, since it required delicate work, and jobs like that were usually left to Hermione. It had been agreed between that while Hermione brewed the potion, Ron and Harry would each take turns to make sure that the potion remained un-tampered. The potion was being brewed in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom of all places. According to Hermione, no one ever went in there on account of the ghost, and Myrtle probably wasn't going to go run off to tell a professor that some second years were brewing potions in the girl's bathroom.

"Who are we going to turn into, anyway?" Ron asked.

"I was thinking that you two could turn into Crabbe and Goyle, and I'll turn into Millicent Bulstrode. I managed to pluck off some of her hair at the dueling club. I don't think anyone noticed me."

"Hermione, did you really have to pick to three grossest people in the school to change into?"

She nodded. "Yes Ronald, I did. Of all the people in Slytherin House, those two are probably the most likely he'd go around gloating anything about to. And I don't know about Millicent, but she probably hangs around those goons as well. I think she has a crush on Goyle, I can't be too sure." At that remark, she cringed at the thought of anyone wanting to have a crush on one of Malfoy's minions.

"That's… interesting to hear." Harry laughed, shuddering as well. "How'd you figure out if they're staying for the holidays, anyway?"

"I saw them signing up last week at lunch when Professor Snape went around with the sign ups."

"You're turning out to be a bloody good spy if you're noticing all that." Ron commented.

"Yes well, that's why you are my minions and do everything I tell you." Hermione sniffed, trying her best to look like she was their superior.

"Hey! What makes us your minions instead of you guys being mine?"

"For once, you two do very well at pointing and grunting. And I'm a girl, so it's in my nature to take two hopeless boys under my wing so that they might help me to dominate the world."

"Are you listening to this, Harry?" Ron asked, turning to his friend with a slightly horrified expression on his face.

"Sounds right to me, mate. She rewards us with homework help, so I'd say that she definitely has a point there Ron."

"Good minion, Harry." Hermione patted him on the head. "Maybe Ron, if you're as good as him, you'll get a cookie for good behavior."

Ron looked at her for a few moments before bursting out into laughter, Harry following him, and Hermione giggling along with them, their noise earning them a few looks from some of the upper years.

"Right," Harry said once the trio got themselves under control once more. "How about we just leave the taking over the world to me, eh?"

"Whatever you say Harry, just know that I'll be in control all along, no matter what you do."

xXx

For what seemed the millionth time in a row, Harry sat perched on a toilet with an open door, watching the entrance pipes for any signs of movement. And for the millionth time in a row, he wished that was able to apply charms to alarm him whenever someone decided to open up the Chamber of Secrets once more. He was getting tired of the same old game where he had gotten no results despite all his patience. The alarms wouldn't work outside the entrance because the only ones that he knew of wouldn't alert just him to an intruder, but anyone else in the vicinity as well. Doing that would go against any kind of subtlety that he was trying to maintain. Instead, he had to do it the old fashioned way under the cover of his invisibility cloak.

He tried preventing a large yawn from escaping his mouth, but it was to no avail. He had simply been away from too long, and trying to stay up late wasn't helping him any. He wasn't even sure if he was watching the place properly. For all he knew, the other guy was coming after he had left, and was doing who knew what with his snake. And Harry wasn't even sure if they were going to keep coming again, since there had already been one attack. Too many variables and too many things that he didn't know about.

The only thing that he did know was what he was going to do once he found the other person. He wasn't going to confront them right away as that would be just plain stupid. He'd probably just follow them around for a bit and see what they were up to and if they were too large of a threat to get rid of on his own. If they were, he'd get someone else, namely the Dark Lord to take care of the problem. And if it wasn't going to be a problem, he'd figure out how to get rid of them himself. Either by blackmail or by force. Whichever one would work the best. He actually didn't care too much for the idea of blackmail, since too many things could go wrong with that as well.

He was just getting ready to call it quits for the night when a glimmer of something caught his eye. It looked like some sort of bend in the air, almost like when water refracted light, and a stick look oddly bent when placed in the water. He held still, staring at the distortion, trying to figure out what it was. He would've passed it off as a trick of the light if not for the fact that it looked like he had seen it move. As he stared harder, he could make out the vague shape of a humanoid. It wasn't ghost that was for sure. From what he knew, they could turn completely invisible. He figured that it was a Disillusionment charm that was being used on the person. It was decent camouflage, but it never quite managed to give a person true invisibility.

He couldn't get a good look at them, but figured that they were heading to the stand of sinks sitting in the middle of the bathroom. He craned his neck, unwilling to risk making noise by standing up from the toilet. Whoever it was, he could barely make out where they were standing. He would have to move around if he wanted to get a better look at them. Or maybe he could get a spell off and cancel the charm. Either way, he estimated that he would still have to change his position.

With an internal sigh, Harry gingerly stood up, careful to make as little noise as possible. This had to be the one time that he was grateful that the faucets dripped on account of Moaning Myrtle's constant drama. He creeped forward, silently slipping his wand out from its place inside his robes. He could barely make out the distortion hovering in front of the sink. He didn't know why they hadn't opened the Chamber just yet, but Harry wasn't going to wait around any longer to find out why they hadn't done that just yet.

_"Finite Incantum!"_ Harry cried out, moving his wand through the movements as fast as he could.

His spell hit home, but before he could get a good look at the person that he had just attacked, he slipped on a patch of wet tile, saving him from a spell sent back his way. He rose to his feet, making sure to keep his cloak wrapped tightly around him.

The room was oddly silent, and he wildly looked around, trying to see where the other person had gone to. A flash of red caught his eye. Instead of staying to fight, it seemed that they had taken the easy way out and decided to run. He wouldn't let them get away that easily. He ran after them.

He rushed out the bathroom, and barely managed to see the figure turn down a corridor. He sprinted after them, wishing to the powers that be that he would be able to keep up with them. Years of playing Harry Hunting had allowed him to be able to sprint rather quickly, but he only needed to run long enough that either Dudley gave up, or he was able to find a suitable hiding place. This chase, he had a feeling would turn into some kind of endurance race, which he hadn't really been counting on doing that night.

By the time he caught up with them, they were already halfway down the hall, approaching what he knew to be another turn. Still, he kept on, not really caring that he was making a bunch of noise, but still making sure that his cloak stayed on.

As he figured, they turned again, and Harry followed a few seconds later. This time, there was a set of stairs at the end of the hallway. Their hood was up now, and Harry couldn't tell for sure what they looked like.

His feet slammed against the stairs as he ran up them, panting slightly. The only good thing about coming this way was that there was a dead in just barely ahead. Obviously, they weren't thinking, or else they would've gone another way. Either that or they just didn't know the school that way.

At the top of the staircase, he stopped. Not because he had all of a sudden decided to have given up, but because they had disappeared completely. All that that stood in front of him now was a blank stretch of hallway with a wall at the end. Any doors up here would be locked. The purpose of the rooms, he didn't know, but he did know that there was no getting in them at all. He had tried.

He took his wand out in case he was attacked again. But there was nothing. Just silence. Not even the distortion of a Disillusionment charm. It was disconcerting that his quarry had been able to disappear without a trace. It wasn't like they apparated. Hogwarts had wards against things like that. It was irritating that he had lost the chase and didn't even know how he had done it. But he had to give it to them, they were good. And they had given him the break that he had longed for since starting his personal stakeout.

Though it was a break, all he knew was that they looked like a student. Nothing else at all. And for all Harry knew, it could've been a disguise as well. But on the plus side, they would be taking steps to be more careful about how they accessed the Chamber of Secrets, and maybe, if he was lucky enough, they would stop using the Basilisk altogether. It probably wasn't going to happen, but for whatever reasons, it still seemed nice to keep those thoughts in hand.

Calling it a night, he headed back down the stairs, senses still on high alert just in case anything else decided to happen to him that night.

As he quietly made his way up the five stories it took to get to the Gryffindor common room, he sighed, thinking that maybe it was time to rethink his problem and how to solve it. The thing was, nothing else seemed to come to mind. It wasn't like he could just go around asking for help. There was one person that he could ask, yes, but that was only to use as a very last resort, and only because both the Gryffindor and Slytherin side of him was telling him that he could handle it all himself. It was his mess; he could deal with it on his own.

Once back in the comfort of his dormitory, he quietly removed his cloak and slipped into bed. There was a lot to think about and hopefully it wouldn't keep him up too much longer.

xXx

It was the Christmas holiday already, and Harry couldn't believe it. It seemed like it was only a few weeks since his return to Hogwarts and they were already into the winter break. As he settled into a chair in the nearly empty common room, he realized that it was a break much needed. He had been spent too much time worrying and fussing over things that were clearly outside of his control. His only solace was that he had friends that would look after him, and he would do the same in return. He couldn't exactly tell them what he was up to, but it was still nice to be able to relax and chat about non important things. It helped him to remember that he was still an eleven year old boy, and that he shouldn't forget how to act like one.

Besides the thing with the Polyjuice Potion, he promised himself that he wouldn't do anything that concerned anything not school or friend related.

That said, he enjoyed his cup of hot chocolate that Fred and George had somehow managed to smuggle into the dorms. Even Percy, who was staying at Hogwarts as well, didn't complain about the hot drink. After all, hot chocolate was a staple of all things to do with winter and Christmas, and Harry was glad that the prefect wasn't too much of a prude to say anything about the drink. Judging by the quality of the beverage, Harry had to guess that it came somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchens, courtesy of the house elves inhabiting the place.

"Who's winning?" Harry asked Ron, who was currently playing a game of chess against Percy.

Ron answered without looking up from the board. "Who do you think?"

"Not for long, my dear brother." Said Percy, finally moving a piece of his own. "Old age and treachery is no match for youth and enthusiasm.

"Well said, old chap! We knew you'd finally admit that you were getting a bit soft in the head." Either Fred or George said that remark, who was who, Harry could never figure out. How molly did it, he never knew.

"Oh shove it, you two. I could take house points from you for disrespecting a prefect." He grumbled.

"Ah, how you wound us, Percy," Started one of the twins.

"You would punish your own flesh and blood."

"On the eve of Christmas, nonetheless,"

"Whatever would mum say?"

Percy merely ignored the pair, instead choosing to concentrate on the game before him.

"You play a cruel game with your brother, you know that, right?" Harry said to the twins.

"Us?" The said in unison, daring to look affronted at his comment.

"Percival knows that we're only joking."

"Yeah, I see." He shook his head before turning back to the book his was reading. He didn't continue reading though, and instead pondered what it would've been like if he had parents who were still alive.

It was depressing to think about, that he knew, but still he couldn't help but to do so. Every year at Christmas, the Dursleys would go out of their way to make sure that he knew that he had no other family. He had to be grateful to them for their willingness to take him in. When he was younger, he had wished he had other family that he could go to. Not because he had missed them, but because he had wondered if he would've been less of a burden to his aunt and uncle if they didn't have to take care of them now.

But this year, there was no gloating, as it was the year previous. It gave him time to dwell on what possibly could have been. He was enjoying himself; he wasn't going to deny that. He had friends to share the holiday with both presents to receive and to give. But as he watched the interaction of Ron and his brothers, he wondered what it was like to have true flesh and blood to share that with. He wondered what it would be like to have a constant source of family that he could laugh and play with, tease and cry with.

Or if he had siblings, would he have the same closeness that the Weasley family seemed to have with each other? Yes, they seemed to have their differences from time to time, but it looked like underneath it all, there was underlying factor that was keeping them all together. Harry could only assume that it was love. He had read enough books and seen enough movies to have a general idea of what it looked like, and he was somewhat jealous of it.

He was starting to get himself down. It was Christmas - it was supposed to be one of the happier times of the year. No need to be a party pooper to himself, it just wasn't going to get him anywhere worthwhile.

"Hey, where's Hermione and Ginny?" Harry asked, realizing that there were people missing from their little impromptu party.

"They're up in the dorms." replied Ron. "They're probably talking about boys or stuff like that. Glad I don't have to hear it."

"How come we never talk about girls, Ron?"

"Are you kidding me? We're twelve, for Merlin's sake! We don't start thinking about that kind of stuff until we're old, like Percy."

"I'm right here, Ronald." Percy sniffed, pushing up his eyeglasses further up his nose.

"I know that. Pawn to E-7. Checkmate." He ignored his brother's protests and continued speaking. "Like I said, Percy's old, he can get away with looking at and talking with girls. Just look at him and Penelope Clearwater."

"Penelope and I are merely friends, Ron."

Ron snorted. "Right and I'm the bloody Minister of Magic."

"Language, Ron."

"Yes, mum." He rolled his eyes.

"What about Hermione, she's a girl?" pointed out Harry. "We talk with her; shouldn't she be excused from that then?"

"No, cause she's a friend. And we met her before she got real gross, so I think it's alright."

"Yeah, your logic is unflappable. Remind me not to go against it again."

"Think we ought to go to bed now?" Ron asked, putting away his chess set.

"Why? It's not like we have any classes to go to tomorrow."

"But tomorrow's Christmas! I don't want to sleep in, and neither should you, Harry. It's like the only day that I'll actually get up early on. Don't you remember me waking you up last year?"

"Yeah, I didn't even get a chance to look at the clock before you attacked me with my own presents. But I guess you've got a point there, Ron." Harry drained the remainder of his hot chocolate, and rose from his cushy seat. "Night guys," He said to the remaining Weasleys.

"Night Harry." Said Fred and George.

"Goodnight Ron, Harry." Percy said before returning to his book.

Harry yawned as he climbed the stairs behind his friend. He supposed the thought of actually going to bed at that point made him actually start to actually feel sleepy. He didn't mind though, he was excited for Christmas, and was even excited to be excited for the next day. It was enjoyable to actually have something to look forward to for the second year in the row. Last year, he hadn't believed that he would actually get presents of any sort, but this year, he thought that he could actually get used to the idea of giving and receiving gifts.

"Fun day tomorrow, eh Ron?" Harry said as they both prepared for bed.

"Yeah. The best part is going to be the sweater that mum sends. Even though it's probably going to be maroon again. But I guess I don't really mind all that much, they're warm and remind me of home."

"Yeah, they're pretty nice. I'm still surprised that your mum sent me one last year. I don't think I'd had a decent conversation with her before Christmas."

"That's mum for you." Ron observed as he crawled into bed. "You could be Draco Malfoy of all people, and if she thought that he needed a sweater, I'm pretty sure she'd make the ponce one anyway."

Harry chuckled at the thought of Draco strutting around Hogwarts in a Weasley sweater. The image didn't seem to suit the Slytherin very well. "If I have dreams about Malfoy walking around in a sweater, I'll know who to blame it on."

"Whatever mate. Go to sleep. We're waking up early tomorrow."

Harry drew his curtains shut. "Happy Christmas, Ron."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks again for reading, and thanks again to my new beta Allanah-x. Review and tell me how weird my story is!_


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